


home for christmas

by dizzy



Series: we're all dying anyway 2019 daily fic advent [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, non-youtuber au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21632320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: Dan's an almost-homeless twenty year old almost-dropout, and putting his faith in Kathryn Lester is probably the best decision he's ever made.prompt: found family
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: we're all dying anyway 2019 daily fic advent [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559167
Comments: 275
Kudos: 642





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be completed by December 24.

The day Dan meets Kathryn Lester, he's standing in front of an ASDA contemplating if his pride and dignity have really sunk so low that he'd consider applying at the very same franchise that he was fired from a year before. 

He stands there in the biting cold of late November in Manchester, remembering having to wake before the sun on weekends, rude customers ready to shout in his face if the thing they want isn’t on offer anymore, managers threatening to rain hell down upon them if the till didn’t come out even when they counted it, the way he left the building every day feeling like his soul was being crushed. 

They probably wouldn’t take him anyway, what with the previously being fired and all. To try would just be to invite humiliation, and he’s had enough of that lately. 

So the answer, at least today, is no. 

*

When she comes out of the shop she's bundled up in a heavy coat with a knit hat tucked onto her head, juggling paper bags full of shopping. 

It’s a disaster in the making. Dan watches the first apple topple off the bag and roll almost directly under her foot. She lets out a wobbling sound of distress, and one of the bags goes flying-

Right into Dan's arms as he swoops over and grabs it. The only casualty is a loaf of bread she was probably hoping to avoid crushing. 

"Oh, my!" She says, laughing a soft but hearty laugh. She's got kind blues eyes and she looks at Dan with amusement. "Well, wasn't that almost a mess?" 

"I suppose so," Dan says. 

He's got his politest churchboy smile on, patented from years of attending services with his grandmother. 

"Lucky for me, a savior strolled along!" She smiles and hoists her other bag up. She tries to bend down and get the loaf of bread but Dan stoops and grabs it for her, plucking up the plastic drawn together end in his fingertips. "Oh, now you're just showing off." 

He laughs. "Sorry? Here, let me carry it for you, where are you parked?" 

His grandmother would be downright proud. 

*

He's still not entirely sure how they go from Dan walking her to her car holding her shopping, to Dan sitting in the passenger seat of her white Sedan on his way to probably be murder-stabbed or eaten by her cannibal family. 

He thinks his mistake was declining her first attempt at payback, which was an offer of one of the remaining apples. 

He'd said it would be the healthiest thing he'd had in weeks, and she'd gasped and slapped him on the arm and before he knew it she was talking about how he shouldn't be out without a proper jacket in this sort of cold, and was he a student, and how far from home was he exactly, and _oh that's a shame, come on, my boys have both abandoned me, let's get you a nice homecooked meal_. 

Dan's usually the sort to run as far away from strangers as he can, but her eyes are blue and kind and he's facing a long train ride back to Wokingham if he can't come up with some sort of plan fast, so into the sedan he goes.

*

The Lester home is nice. 

It smells warm and like something's been in the oven all day. 

Kathryn's husband is friendly. He's a tall man with weathered skin and a firm handshake. Dan doesn't usually like firm handshakes, but this one doesn't feel threatening or intimidating. It feels welcoming in a way he's not found very often in his life, especially not with men. 

Maybe he's just romanticizing kindness. He tends to do that, sometimes. People are less than shit to him and he suddenly feels like he owes them his life. 

But these strange people, these kind strangers, they talk to Dan about their days and their lives and their children - two boys, a bit older than Dan - and they feed him delicious food. Dan’s glad their sons aren’t here because they both sound like disgustingly functional human beings and Dan doesn’t need that sort of comparison to fall short to in person. 

They ask him questions about university and his home life and his interests. Dan answers with lies and half truths. He talks about law courses and seminars and smiles politely at their inquiries, the same ones everyone always has about his future. 

He'll cry later. For now he just smiles and declines to divulge the bitter realities of his situation and the many failures contained within. 

When his stomach is full and his toes are finally warmed, he says he ought to be going. He's not sure how long it is a walk to the bus stop, but he's got enough money to get back to the city. Maybe he can sleep in the hall outside the flat he's just been booted from. If he's quiet they won't notice til morning and he can pretend he's just there to get the rest of his stuff. 

If they haven't tossed it or sold it already. 

Kathryn tuts about not wanting him to leave. "You make me miss my boys," she says, and then rifles through a closet and pulls out a jacket. "You're about Phil's size, and he's not worn this one in ages."

"You really don't have to-" Dan tries to say. 

She ignores him, shaking non-existent dust from it. "Here you go, try this one." 

Dan slides his arms into it. It feels warm and well padded. 

If he ends up sleeping rough, at least he might not freeze to death. 

"Do you need a ride back to university?" Nigel asks. 

He looks drowsy and he smells like cigar smoke, though Dan hasn't actually seen him smoking. 

"No, sir," Dan says. "I'll be fine." 

Nigel looks ready to accept it and return to his state of almost nap, but Kathryn gives him a stern look. "Up, old man. It'll be lovely, we'll give him a ride all the way back to university, and then you're going to take me somewhere for a nightcap." 

He looks ready to grumble until the last part, when suddenly his eyes light up with a sparkle. "Oh, a nightcap, is it?" 

She smiles a smile that makes it seem like they've got some sort of secret between them. 

And then she looks at Dan, who suddenly seems to crumble. "That's really alright," he says, broken bits of words caving on top of each other under his embarrassment. 

Maybe it's some secret mum superpower but she looks at him a bit more closely. Dan's not sure what it is she sees. Is it the naked terror he feels at the idea of sleeping in a bus stop? The even stronger sense of actual despair at having to tell his parents he's failed at every great aspiration he's ever had? The deep-rooted longing inside him for someone to just give him a fucking hug and tell him it'll be alright? 

Or maybe she's just noticing that he looks like he hasn't done laundry in a week or had a shower in as many days, because he actually hasn't. That's mostly to do with the fact that for some fucking reason he hadn't been able to get out of bed for four days straight, until his flatmates pounded on the door to say he had to pay rent or get the fuck out. 

He should have just rung his mum or dad. He could have asked for the money, or he could have just told them that he hasn't been going to lectures anyway. That he barely got through his first year and he’s really not managing his second at all. That they've wasted their money and he's wasted his time and he's never going to amount to anything. 

Instead he'd slunk out when they were gone to class. 

Whatever it is she sees, she suddenly regards him like a skittish rabbit, like he might bolt if she moves too fast. "Dan, dear, do you have somewhere to go?" 

He chokes on a breath and shakes his head. 

He wishes it were just her. He can fully blame his dad on being the reason he shies away from male authority figures, why he assumes he’ll disappoint them so he just avoids them. He knows Nigels eyes are on him now and he wants to hide from it. 

“I have a flat,” Dan says. “But I got evicted. And I dropped out of uni. I don’t know where to go. I don’t have a job. I don’t-”

He’s almost hyperventilating suddenly, in a quiet terrifying way. Fear and embarrassment grip his lungs and squeeze them tight. 

“None of that, now,” she says, reaching out and rubbing his arm. “You’ll stay right here, that’s what you’ll do, and we’ll talk about the rest in the morning.” 

Maybe, he thinks, this is how low his pride and dignity have sunk. 

But he says yes and thanks her. 

*

He sleeps in a bedroom half full of boxes. 

It smells like stale air, like no one's been here in a long time.

Kathryn calls it _Martyn's room_ and maybe Dan should feel worse about the fact that he's sleeping in a space already designated someone else's, but it's a comfortable bed and she hugs him long and hard and she says not to worry about a thing, they'll sort it all out in the morning. 

Dan doesn't think his life can be sorted out that easily, but he's twenty and terrified and he wants to believe in something good, so why not her? 

*

Putting his faith in Kathryn Lester is probably the best decision Dan's ever made. 

They sit down over breakfast and she listens with patience and just the right about of sympathy to Dan talking about his struggles at university, and needing a job, and his fear of failure and going home. 

He doesn't cry. He's proud of that. 

"Are you willing to work?" She asks. 

It's not the question he was expecting. "Yes," he says, though part of him is afraid even if he tries he can't. 

Is it a lie if you really just don't know the answer?

"Well," she says, nodding to herself. She looks pleased, almost smug. "Nigel's been needing some help in the office." 

Dan's head snaps up. "What?" 

"We'll pay you in room and board," she says, like it's already a done deal. "And a bit extra so you've got spending money." 

"What?" Dan asks again. 

"It won't be interesting work, I can tell you that," she says. "You're clever with a computer, aren't you? That's what he mostly needs." 

"Yeah," Dan says. "I am."

"Brilliant, then! Knew you would be," she boasts. "You've just got that look about you. My boys will be happy he's not calling them every day asking them what an icon is and how to find his email." 

"Sounds like my grandma," Dan says, smiling a bit. "But is it really..." 

He trails off. 

Is it really real? 

Is it really fair? 

Is it even allowed?

Shouldn't someone as shit as him have to just suffer the consequences of his bad decisions? Why should he get rescued? 

She doesn't even wait for him to finish the question, though. She just takes his breakfast plate and stands and says, "Oh yes, it really is." 

*

Nigel does hire him, like properly so. Dan is given stacks of paperwork to put his signature on and hands over his driving license as proof that he is who he says he is. 

"Easiest interview you've ever had, eh?" Nigel asks, chuckling. He pushes his glasses up his nose. "Now, you'll be working directly with me, here. Bit of an assistant, you might say. Filing, send out emails for me, help me sort that scanner majig over there in the box that's been serving as a fine dust collector."

"I can do that," Dan says, and this time he's closer to believing it. 

Nigel looks pleased. " There's an office but it's closer out to Manchester and since I had a bit of a health scare a few years ago, Kath my love likes to keep her eye on me. She'll be enlisting you for that as well, but it's alright. You've full permission to spy, wouldn't dare cross her good intentions even if I wanted to." 

Dan nods and listens and tries to remember as much as he can but his mind is a blur and before he knows it he's signing the forms out and whisked away to collect all of his earthly belongings. 

*

Not everything changes all at once, and most significantly he finds that he doesn't change really at all to begin with. 

He still feels like he's living a web of lies. He doesn't tell the Lesters that he failed out of uni because he just stopped trying. He doesn't tell his mum and dad he's not in school anymore, and he doesn't tell the Kath that his parents don't know. He also doesn’t tell the school he’s not coming back, because the idea of even trying to find out how he’s supposed to do that sounds too intimidating to think about. 

In a few ways, he actually starts to feel worse. He feels like the list of people in his mind that he's going to inevitably disappoint has just grown by two. There are mornings where he still doesn't want to get out of bed. He walks around day by day feeling like everything he’s doing isn’t good enough until Nigel claps him on the shoulder and tells him he’s done well. Then he coasts on that praise for an hour or two until the next task and the cycle starts again. 

But it’s mostly good and he likes having a purpose to his days. They’ve fixed up a third bedroom for him. The art on the walls looks like it was chosen by a geriatric person with a zealousness for the color salmon and a love of swans, but he figures it could be worse. Kath and Nigel are social people, and there’s usually a stream of people coming in and out of the house - friends, people that work for Nigel, family members in for a visit. Dan isn’t pressured to stay around for any of it, but he’s not excluded, either. Kath always tells him she knows a young man like himself doesn’t want to settle in with stuff old folks like them, and he laughs and disagrees but usually takes the out. 

It’s comfortable and after a couple of weeks he starts to feel a measure of security and stability. 

And then he meets Phil.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Surrender by Walk the Moon 
> 
> I specifically drew inspiration from the lines: Another night in my new skin / Charts and maps I've drawn just get me lost

The problem is that Phil looks like every cool emo guy that Dan aspired to be when he was a teenager. He's got black hair that falls messy over his eyes and he's wearing a purple t-shirt with a yellow design with skinny jeans looking like a second skin, and... 

Dan's in pyjama bottoms and an old t-shirt, standing in the kitchen holding the milk and a bowl of dry cereal. "Hi," he says. 

"Hi," Phil says back, then turns around and shouts. "Mum, did you adopt a new son to replace me?" 

Kath walks in, still unwrapping the scarf from her neck. "I always told you I would, didn't I? Phil, this is Dan. He's working with your father and staying here for a bit." 

It is a joke, of course. Because Phil laughs, and Kath laughs, and eventually Dan laughs too. 

But he catches Phil giving him strange looks and eventually he isn't sure if it was a joke at all. 

*

That night at dinner is mostly Phil. He's been off in America doing an internship with a film company, and he's full of stories about his travels and the people he met. 

It sounds fun, and exciting. It makes Dan want to cry something bitter and angry because that's not the sort of life he gets to have. 

He wonders what he could have become if he'd had parents as nice and as secure as Phil's. He shoves a fork full of peas into his mouth to keep from thinking too much about it. 

The first question Phil directs right at Dan is, "Do you like films?"

"Um," Dan says. "Sure. Who doesn't like films?" 

Phil shrugs. "Some people don't. What films do you like?"

Dan hesitates for just a second. Suddenly he can't think of a single movie ever. "High School Musical was good." 

"Oh." The disappointment is evident on Phil's face. "I haven't seen that one." 

"It's good," Dan says. "You should watch it some time." 

"Yeah." Phil smiles tightly at him, then looks back to his dad. "How are you feeling?" 

Nigel rolls his eyes but he starts to talk about doctors and test results, and it's not that Dan doesn't care it's just that he's now got to spend the next forty eight hours wondering why he's such an idiot. 

*

Dan departs to his room after dinner. 

Usually he stays up for a while talking with Kath and Nigel, or using his laptop in the family room with them. Being around them that way has felt strangely easy, not because he's got all that much in common with them but because they don't really seem to expect him to. He's free to just exist in their space and they don't ignore him but they don't push him, either. 

The vibe feels different now with Phil here. He's much more engaged with them, still bubbling over with things he wants to tell them. They throw around names of people Dan's never heard of, family friends and actual family, and he's glad he gets to shut his door behind him. 

He gets into his bedroom and shuts the door. He's had a couple weeks now to settle in. His clothes are actually in the dresser and his suitcases are put away in the closet. He doesn't have all that much else, just the old television set and gaming system he'd brought with him to uni and a small collection of games. 

Most of his things are still back in Wokingham. There's nothing stopping him from going back to get them besides his own pride, but that's enough for him to reason that if he hasn't needed any of that shit for the past year then he probably doesn't need it now. 

*

Phil's down the hall from him, apparently. 

Dan's half asleep when he hears the footsteps. He holds his breath, a superstitious holdover from his childhood and late nights staying up playing his Gameboy under the blankets, hoping his parents won't come in to check and find him still awake. 

Phil doesn't slow down in front of Dan's door. Why would he? Dan just listens as he goes into that room down the hall that Dan's never peeked into. When he hears the door shut Dan gets to his feet. He plugs in his laptop and his phone and then hesitantly pushes open his own door, walking barefoot down the hall to the bathroom. 

He's already brushed his teeth, so he has a piss and washes his hands. He's already imagining the bliss of sleep when he steps back into the hallway - 

And then he screams. 

It's just a little scream, just a sound of surprise before Dan's hand flies up over his mouth. 

Phil yelps back. He's wearing a t-shirt and pants and Dan's eyes go down to his long, pale legs before he yanks them back up to a safer visual zone. 

"Fuck me," Dan swears. "You scared me." 

"Sorry!" Phil holds his hands up. "I was just going for a wee." 

"Yeah, me too. Or, I was. I'm finished." 

"That's good," Phil says. "Glad you didn't fall in." 

It's a dumb joke. Dan doesn't laugh. 

Phil looks visibly uncomfortable. In a weird way it makes Dan feel a little better, or at least a little less like a blithering idiot. Maybe he should feel bad about that, but he doesn't. 

"Right," he says. "Um, goodnight." 

"Goodnight," Phil says, but he doesn't move until Dan's brushed passed him into his bedroom. 

*

He finds out the next morning that Phil's staying at home at least until January of the new year. 

Nigel tells him that with the assumption that Dan will be happy to have someone closer to his own age around, but over the next couple of days he and Phil barely see each other. 

Phil has old school mates in town for the holidays and he seems eager to catch up with all of them. He doesn't even come back that Friday night. Kath says over dinner that Phil's at a party and Dan's stomach drops in a way he can't explain. 

Of course Phil has loads of friends and goes to parties. He probably has a pretty girlfriend or maybe he's the sort of guy that just hooks up with a lot of girls. They probably swoon over those big blue eyes. 

Not that Dan's noticed. Not that Dan _cares_. He just can't help but view every person remotely close to his own age through the lens of would they hurt me, would they not, will they hate me without even knowing me? 

He shifts restlessly on the bed and contemplates it until he falls asleep. 

*

The first real problem comes on Sunday afternoon. 

Kath is making a roast dinner and runs out of potatoes - an absolute tragedy in the Lester household that its matriarch just won't stand for. Nigel's out having a pint and Dan walks into the kitchen at just the wrong moment, as Phil is whining his inability to be of any assistance. 

"It's cold, mum! And it'll take ages on the bus!" 

"Go with Dan," she says. "You can drive, can't you, love?" 

They both look at him. 

He shrugs. "Haven't in a while, but yeah." 

She smiles triumphantly. "There we go. All sorted." 

Phil looks less pleased, eyes sticking on Dan. 

Dan swallows. "I can go by myself. It's okay." 

"Nonsense," she says. "You can get Phil out from underfoot for me." 

"Mum." Phil whines again, sounding much younger than he is. 

"He's a pest," she says to Dan. "Always stealing nibbles." 

"I learned it from Dad," Phil grumbles. "Fine, alright." 

She manages to come up with three more things she needs before they actually get into the car. 

"What store does your mum shop at?" Dan asks. 

"There's an ASDA and an M&S," Phil says. 

"Um. Lets do M&S." Dan isn't ready to face the world of ASDA again. Still too soon. 

"She likes that one best anyway," Phil says. "Do you need me to program it in the sat nav?" 

"Can't you just tell me?" Dan looks over at Phil, making his way down the street toward town. He's nervous about driving Kath's car, but the roads are mostly clear at least. He did have his own car back in Wokingham, he just didn't bring it with him to Manchester and his parents sold it without even asking him. Because, why not? Of course they did. 

"Um." Phil sounds sheepish. "I can try. I'm just really shit at directions so if I say make a right turn where you needed a left and we end up in Leeds, don't blame me." 

"I will absolutely blame you," Dan promises. 

Phil does manage to get them there intact. Dan pulls into the M&S car park, decidedly more busy than he'd been hoping for. Apparently the roads were all empty because everyone in Rawtenstall is here doing a grocery shop. 

They're silent through the aisles, Phil mostly leading while Dan follows. They don't get a basket and Dan regrets that when he's left holding a sack of potatoes and a four pint jug of milk. Phil gets the eggs and mustard in the brand she wanted and then leads them not to the till but to the sweets aisle. 

"Don't think this was on her list," Dan says. 

"Mum always gives me enough to buy sweets with the change," Phil says. "It's like a law or something." 

Dan snorts. "If it is, my mum's in trouble." 

It's not exactly true. His mum did give him money for the movies or getting food when he hung out with friends - but when he was fourteen, not twenty four. 

"What do you like?" Phil asks. "I'm getting Haribo. And a Kinder egg. And, ooh, a Double Decker! Wait, do you know if we've got hot chocolate at home? We need hot chocolate." 

Phil is off before Dan can even protest. Dan trails after him and watches as Phil debates between three kinds of hot cocoa, deciding on two of them since he can't pick between and Dan's no help. 

Which he says, right to Dan's face. "You're no help," with a disapproving tone. 

Dan bristles at that. "I just don't want to spend your mum's money on stupid shit." 

Phil's mouth gets a pinched look to it. He seems to debate with himself if he wants to argue or not. 

Are they arguing? Dan isn't really sure. 

Phil shrugs and reaches out to snag a bag of marshmallows too, then heads for the front of the store. 

*

They don't talk much on the way back, just quiet directions. Phil eats his Double Decker and definitely gets crumbs all over the passenger seat but Dan figures Kath can't blame him for that. 

Once they're home and bring the groceries in, Phil shows off his collection of goodies with pride. Kath rolls her eyes fondly and then says, "What did you make out with, Dan?" 

"Um," Dan says. "I didn't get anything." 

She looks aghast at Phil, then slaps him on the arm. "Rude boy, not getting Dan any sweets." 

"He didn't want any!" Phil says, glaring at Dan a bit over her shoulder. "I tried to get him to."

"Well, you'll share that Haribo if he wants some," she orders. 

Dan feels weird and bad and guilty without knowing why. He's wondering if he can get away with going up to his room when Kath says, "Why don't you lot go down in the basement for a bit? Play some video games?" 

She's just being nice. Dan knows it. But he follows Phil downstairs resenting that he isn't given much choice in the matter. 

*

Phil does offer him Haribo. 

Dan shakes his head. 

"Come on," Phil says, pushing the bag his way more. "You're actually making me feel bad." 

"That was your mum, not me," Dan says. 

"Yeah," Phil says. "Guess you're right. Do you even want to play video games with me?" 

Dan turns the question right back around on him. "Do you even want to play them with me?"

Phil shrugs. "I don't have anything better to do." 

It's not actually a glowing endorsement of this usage of Phil's time, but Dan actually does like playing video games, and he hasn't actually been down in the basement. Kath and Nigel don't come down here, and he hasn't explored anywhere in the house that they haven't actually told him he can utilize. 

This space looks like it never really belonged to them to begin with. There are boxes along one wall but the sofa is big and ugly and orange and the television set has games and gaming systems stacked all around it. 

If he'd known this was here, he probably would have been hanging out in here more often. 

"What are we playing?" Dan asks. 

Phil sounds decisive when he says, "Bubble Bobble."

"Never heard of it." 

Phil's mouth drops open. "It's a classic!" 

"Sorry I'm not like, ancient." The words just slip out, because sometimes Dan talks without thinking like that. 

He halfway expects Phil to just tell him to leave, but instead Phil looks scandalized in an almost amused way. "How old are you, actually?" 

"Twenty," Dan says. 

"Oh." Phil contemplates that. He starts setting up the game, blowing actual dust off the cartridge. "You look younger. Do I?"

"Do you what?" 

"Look younger than I am." 

"How old are you?" 

"I'll be twenty five next month." 

Dan shrugs. "I guess you look younger than that. I'm bad at judging age." 

"I think I do," Phil decides. "It's my youthful spirit." 

Dan snorts. "Your fucking what, mate?" 

"My youthful spirit." Phil punctuates it by tossing a controller to Dan. "Martyn and I used to play this loads when we were kids. It's an arcade style game, so you can't save your progress. It's infuriating." 

Dan looks down at the controller. "Are these teeth marks?" 

"Yes," Phil says. "My brother liked to bite the controllers." 

He sounds just mischievous enough that Dan doubts him, but he decides not to call him on it. "Ah." 

"Anyway, I'm the best at this," Phil says. "Way better than Martyn." 

And then Dan changes his mind. 

"I have a little brother," Dan says. "He likes to tell lies like that, too." 

"You're not very nice," Phil decides. 

The game starts up. Dan has no idea how to play, but he has faith he'll learn fast. "Wait until after I kick your ass to say that." 

*

Dan doesn't win, but he does catch on faster than Phil had obviously expected him to. If Nigel hadn't stuck his head in the door and shouted down that he needed help with something, Dan thinks he could have overtaken the game. 

"Be right there," Phil shouts up, hitting pause and standing up. 

"Actually," Nigel says, "It's Dan I need." 

For a split second, there's something clearly present in Phil's expression. Surprise, but - something more. Something unhappy. 

"Be right up," Dan says, loudly enough for Nigel to hear. He stands and pauses. Phil's sat back down and doesn't seem to be going anywhere anymore. "That's what I do around here. I help him out." 

Phil unpauses the game and looks ahead. "Yeah, I know." When Dan still doesn't move, he glances up. "Better go before he shouts for you again." 

Dan feels weirdly like he's just lost progress at something he hadn't even known he'd been gaining. But there's not much he can do about it now, and he really doesn't want to keep Nigel waiting, so he shoves his hands in his pockets and takes the stairs up out of the basement two at at time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Twenty questions, we tell the truth  
>  You've been stressed out lately? Yeah, me too_
> 
> (from It's Nice to Have a Friend by Taylor Swift)

Nigel keeps Dan busy during the day. Despite his easygoing demeanor, he's actually running a proper business - multiple ones, apparently - and he tasks Dan with digitizing and organizing all the various files he's got all around his home office. He says his teams have been after him to get that done for years so they no longer have to send him paper copies of everything, especially now that he's only in the office a couple times a week. 

Dan actually likes it. It's a soothing routine once he gets into it, and he likes having a job that's a lot of small tasks he can split into sections. It's a charge to have a job he can get done and see the progress he's made. 

He feels... useful. Like he has a purpose. He doesn't have to talk to anyone and no one's standing over his shoulder telling him he's not good enough or fast enough or that he’s doing the wrong thing. 

Nigel also doesn't care if he listens to headphones, or even if Dan blasts music outright on the days when Nigel is off at a meeting or a lunch or just spending the day with his wife. 

That's what Dan’s doing on Monday afternoon, sorting out the things he's already scanned in and filing them away in the shiny new filing cabinets he put together himself the week before. He's singing along with The Resistance, belting it out because he thinks the house is empty. Phil had disappeared after dinner the night before to hang out with someone named Ian, and Nigel and Kath are out to lunch. 

"I love Muse." 

Dan jumps, the papers in his hand falling to the ground and fluttering out everywhere. He spins around. "What the fuck? You scared me." 

Phil grins. "Sorry," he says, not looking sorry at all. "I just got in and I heard the music. And I love Muse." 

"Me too," Dan says, bending to start picking up the files. 

Phil stoops down to help him. "This looks dead boring." 

Dan shrugs. "It's not so bad. Better than any job I've had before." 

"Like what?" Phil asks. 

"ASDA. Focus." Dan shrugs. "Shit jobs working at stores where I had to pretend to be nice to customers and managers that treated me like shit." 

"I worked at W.H. Smith for about three weeks once," Phil says. "A woman shouted at me and threw a chocolate orange at my head so I quit." 

Dan snorts. "Wish I could have quit every time someone shouted at me." 

Phil looks slightly uncomfortable for a moment, handing some of the papers back over to Dan. "Sorry, by the way. For scaring you." 

"You already said that." 

"Yeah, but I didn't mean it that time. I do now." 

Dan snorts. "Thanks, I guess." 

"I was just about to make some lunch. Do you want some?" Phil asks. 

"Leftovers?" Dan is immediately intrigued. The leftovers are one of the best things about staying here... second only to the actual meals. And also, the money. 

"Yeah! I was going to scramble them into some eggs, do you like eggs?" 

"I love eggs." Dan puts the stack of files down onto Nigel's desk. He's been working all morning, he's sure Nigel won't mind if he takes a break to have some lunch. 

*

"It's weird," Phil says, once the lunch is made and they're sat side by side at the kitchen bar eating it. "Having someone else here. I feel like I walked into one of those sitcoms where they start out with a little kid that's cute but after five seasons the kid isn't cute anymore so they just randomly introduce another kid without explaining where the kid even came from. It's like, hi Phil, you're home now, by the way there's another boy living here." 

It's a lot of words prompted by absolutely nothing. Dan hesitates, fork halfway to his mouth. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that." 

Phil looks sheepishly down at his plate, pushing food around. "It's okay. Sometimes I say things without my mouth being attached to my brain." 

"I get that," Dan says. "Though mine's just more like, I talk too fucking much. That's what teachers always wrote on my reports in school. Smart enough, doesn't shut the fuck up." 

"They did not say that," Phil says. 

"Sure they did," Dan lies. 

"No way." Phil's eyes are wide like he just ever so slightly believes Dan. 

"Of course not," Dan snorts. "They just said shit like - Daniel needs to work on his ability to focus." 

"Mine said things like, Phil keeps eating the paste." 

"Well, that makes sense," Dan says. 

Phil makes a face at him. 

There's companionable silence for a bit, then Dan asks, "Did they not even tell you I was here?"

"They did," Phil says. "Mum mentioned Dad had hired someone. I just wasn't expecting... you." 

There's a strange note to Phil's voice when he says the last word. 

It makes Dan's shoulders tense. "Me?" 

Phil shrugs. "Yeah. You're just..." 

He trails off. 

The tension leaks down into Dan's stomach. 

He's not really sure that he wants to know what Phil means. He pushes away from the bar, not even taking time to sort his plate out. Phil can handle it. Maybe that'll keep him from following when Dan says, "I have to get back to work." 

*

Dinner feels long and tiring. The food is good but he struggles to follow the conversation after an afternoon that dragged on and on, his mind running him in circles around all sorts of irrational, illegal situations. 

Phil is quieter than he has been on previous days, too. He only seems engaged in the conversation when Kath starts bickering at him about doing his own laundry. 

Dan can't help but smirk at how much of a whining child Phil sounds like as he petulantly agrees. Phil catches him smirking and gives Dan a proper grin back, hair falling in front of his eyes. 

Eyes. Sharp and blue, with flecks of other colors. 

Dan feels punched in the gut with the ghost of a memory, sitting in school looking one desk over at another boy with black hair and similar blue eyes. 

How had he not noticed the resemblance before? His heart does a little somersault and he stares down at his plate, watching the way the gravy runs into the mash. 

He feels a bit queasy now. 

"I think I'm done," he says. 

Kathryn frowns at him. "Are you feeling poorly?" 

"A bit," Dan says. "My stomach's just off." 

She immediately slaps Nigel in the arm. "You're working him too hard." 

"That's really not it," Dan says, protesting, though he knows she isn't serious at all. "I think I just need a lie down." 

"Well, you're welcome to what's in the fridge if you're feeling peckish later," she says. 

Dan only glances at Phil once as he walks up the stairs, but he's sure he can feel Phil's eyes on him the whole way.

*

Dan tosses and turns with some restless attempt at a nap for almost two hours. 

He shouldn't try to sleep so early. He knows it'll just fuck up his sleep schedule and he'll be dead on his feet in the morning. But he's got thoughts in his head he'd rather not be thinking and of the options available, unconsciousness is the most appealing. 

Until there's a knock on the door. His heart jolts and then thuds at a sickening tempo, anxiety crawling up his spine. "Yeah," he says, voice cracking. He tries again. "Yeah?" 

He's expecting Kath come to check on him. 

What he gets is Phil, in pyjamas now standing sheepishly in the doorway. "Hi." 

"Hey," Dan says, sitting up. He's in the same t-shirt he wore earlier and a pair of joggers. 

"I brought you biscuits." He holds up a package of them. "And milk. If you want." 

Dan grabs the pillow near him and hugs it to him. He's not really sure what to make of this. Kindness? Guilty conscience? Why would Phil feel guilty, anyway? Is it some sort of pre-emptive apology for when tells his parents he'd rather Dan just not be here? 

"Dan?" Phil says, frowning. "If you don't want them I can just..." 

Phil motions behind himself, almost spilling the milk. 

Something about that jars Dan out of his own head. "Sorry, yeah, come in. Biscuits sound good." 

"Mum would probably tell me to bring you something healthy like an apple or something, if your stomach isn't well, but... biscuits cure everything. That's what I think, at least." 

Dan cracks a smile. "I'd rather have the biscuits. My stomach's better, anyway." 

"My stomach is dodgy sometimes," Phil says. "Mostly when I have to present to a group of people or I need to make a grown up phone call and my mum won't do it for me. Or when I've had an entire carton of ice cream."

Dan is mildly horrified by that. "If I had an entire carton of ice cream I'd be shitting a river for three days."

"Ew," Phil says, but it doesn't stop him from taking a bite of the biscuits. It's the nice kind, covered in dark chocolate with a crumbly spiced middle. "But yeah. I've only done it once. Strictly a half a carton guy from then on." 

"Guess it's good to know who you are," Dan says. 

Phil laughs, out of nowhere. "I wish I did." 

"Did what?" 

"Know who I was." Phil's eyes suddenly look intense. "That'd make life loads easier." 

"I mean... yeah," Dan says. "Same, I guess." 

He does want to know more, he's just not sure how to ask. 

Luckily for him, Phil keeps going anyway. "Do you ever feel you're two people in one person's body? Like you go somewhere and you get to be one whole person living your life one whole different way and it's brilliant and you think, I wanna do this forever! But then you start missing the life the other you leads and eventually you miss it so much you go back to it but you're like, alright, the good parts here are still good, but I also don't know how long I can go on not being the other person I am before I explode." 

He makes a big hand gesture to finish. 

Dan stares at him. "Actually, no." 

Phil recoils. Dan can see it like a physical reaction, almost. "Right," Phil mumbles. "Sorry." 

Dan opens his mouth. He doesn't know what's going to come out until it does. "I guess for me it's more like... I'm one person, and I know there's someone else I could be, I just don't even know how to get there to begin with." 

Phil tilts his head. "How so?" 

That's unfair, Dan thinks. He didn't ask Phil any questions. 

But he still tries to answer. "A year ago I was starting school with the goal of getting a law degree and being employable and getting out of Wokingham and I was gonna be great. Do you think I'm living in your parents' guest room eating their food and working for your dad because this is what I wanted to do all along? It's not. Your mum found me on a night when I didn't even know if I was going to have a place to sleep. I don't know how to get from this back to what I was supposed to be." 

It’s far too deep a thing to be sharing with someone he barely knows and isn’t even sure likes him. Or that he likes. 

Plus, Phil is frowning now. "Well, is who you were going to be who you actually want to be? Being who you want to be is an important part of actually getting there, I think."

Dan scoffs inwardly, though he tries not to show it too much. In the grand scheme of his life, that's the one thing that's never really felt like an option. 

"I could help you revise," Phil says, expressing brightening. "I liked uni. So much I stayed in it an extra year."

"What?"

At Dan's confusion, Phil clarifies. "I got a masters degree." 

"Of course you did," Dan mutters. 

Popular, attractive, and apparently smart. Fucking Phil Lester. 

"You're done with the term now, right?" Phil asks. 

"Yeah," Dan says. It's true, on a technicality. He is done with the term. He's also done with next term. And the one after that. He's done with all the terms. 

"So you're off the hook for now, but I'll probably be here until the end of January at least, so once you're starting again I can help you revise!" Phil starts to look more and more excited by the idea. "It'll be great. I used to have brilliant study groups with my friends. We'd spend most of the time just goofing around, but then we'd end up studying enough to actually learn a few things." 

Dan genuinely can't fathom what university would have been like if he hadn't spent all his time dodging anyone who might have wanted to be his friend over the past year and a half. 

"Sure," he says, trying to muster enthusiasm. "That sounds great." 

"See?" Phil says. "It'll be alright." 

"What about you?" Dan asks. He reaches for the last biscuit and snaps it in half. 

Phil smiles like Dan’s just done something amazing and takes the other half. "What about me?" 

"Your whole... two people situation." Dan gestures, sending a few crumbs sprinkling down to his bedsheets. 

"Oh." Phil clams up immediately. "It's nothing. I was just being weird." 

"You're weird a lot, aren't you?" Dan asks. 

Phil shrugs. "Family trait? Wait til you meet my brother." 

Fuck. Dan had totally forgotten there was yet another Lester family member. "Right. Martyn?" 

"Yeah!" Phil beams. "He'll be here tomorrow."

“That’s… nice,” Dan says. 

“He’s actually great.” Phil sighs. “It’s awful sometimes, how great he is. I spent my whole childhood trying to be like him only I’m really not because I think he got all the talented genes. He just used them right up and didn’t leave any for me. He’s good at sport and coordinated and he can do all sorts of music stuff.” 

“Your mum said he’s bringing his girlfriend?” Dan asks. 

He’s dreading the house filling up with people. He’s not sure when they’ll expect him to leave. He’s also not sure when his mum will even want him home. She’s called a couple of times but he’s dodged her, just answering with texts saying he’s busy. The most he’s done is tell her that he’s gotten a new job, which is a wonderful truth when isolated from the context of the rest of his life right now. 

“Yeah, I haven’t met her yet, but she seems just as cool as him. Damnit.” Phil mockingly disparages the coolness of it all. “She’s Swedish. I hope she doesn’t try to make us eat smelly fish things.” 

“Wow, the lack of cultural diversity. Typical Brit.” Dan tentatively mocks back, this time directed at Phil. 

He’s hoping Phil won’t be actually offended. 

Phil just laughs. “If she wants to bring some cultural diversity, I’m open to any and all Swedish desserts.” 

Dan stretches back in his bed, legs ending up beside where Phil is sitting at the end of it. “What if Swedish puddings have fish too?” 

“Okay, some stipulations,” Phil amends. Then he swallows a bit and looks down at the empty plate in his lap. “I should let you get to sleep, I guess.” 

“Oh, sure.” Dan is disappointed in a distant way, but he’s not going to push it. “Thanks for the biscuits.” 

Another cascade of crumbs falls to the floor from Phil’s lap when Phil stands. He’ll have to hoover in here tomorrow, but that’s alright. It was worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _phan + christmas traditions!_

The more full the Lester house gets, the more Dan retreats to his room. 

They really are nice. Martyn's the sort of guy that would be intimidatingly cool if he weren't so fucking chill about everything. He looks like someone who is impossible to impress not because his standards are high but just because he's not expecting anything out of anyone and everything is a pleasant surprise. 

Cornelia's lovely, too - shocking red curls and pale skin and sharp humor that Dan appreciates. She does seem more of the intimidating variety of cool but maybe that's just because she's so much older and has what his mum always refers to as 'life experience.' She talks about jobs she's had and being on telly back in Sweden and concerts and the albums she's released. 

It makes Dan feel even worse about the situation he's in right now. He isn't skilled enough to have a boring office job like Martyn or talented enough to have a career like Cornelia's. 

He isn't even rich enough to take on work experience somewhere fun and exciting even if they don't pay anything, like Phil did. He can't do anything if he doesn't have money to actually be able to pay for it. 

So he spends too many hours at night with the door shut playing video games or watching videos on the internet and trying very hard not to think about the fact that it's already the tenth of December and he still doesn't know what he's doing about anything. 

* 

"Dan?" Kathryn knocks on his door the next morning. It's a few minutes before he'd be coming downstairs for breakfast anyway.

She's never actually done that. He's gotten up every morning out of simple fear of being reprimanded for being late to start work. It startles him as he opens the door, feeling awkward in his sleep clothes. 

"Oh, you're up, good!" She smiles, and then hands him an envelope. "Congratulations, it's payday!" 

"What?" Dan asks, staring at it. 

She laughs. "Payday! I withdrew it yesterday, had to go by the bank for stamps anyway. We'll sort out putting it directly into your accounts in the New Year - if you're planning to stay on, and we do so hope you are - but I thought this might be nicer for you doing your Christmas shopping. By the way, the boys are going into town today, if you'd like to go with them?" 

"Um," Dan says. "I've got... Nigel wanted me to..." 

She waves her hand. "Nonsense. Day off! I declare it. Because he doesn't know, but he's taking me out today as well. And he's going to act positively appalled at how much I spend, while secretly adding things to the basket and hinting very badly at what he'd like." 

The genuine cheer in her voice makes Dan laugh, and she laughs right along with him. "Sure," he says, recognizing that he has no real reason to tell her he'd rather stay at home. 

*

It's not just 'the boys' but Cornelia, too, and Dan's actually glad for that. Between the three of them they keep the car trip into Manchester full of conversation and singing Christmas songs - Martyn and Cornelia with a general loveliness and Phil chiming in to ruin their harmonies. 

Dan's actually in the back seat with Cornelia. 

"Phil always gets shotgun," Martyn says. "He sicked on me once in a car trip when he was nine and I've not wanted to take any chances since then." 

"Hey!" Phil says, offended. "You're not allowed to tell embarrassing stories about me to strangers, Mum said!" 

"She said that when we were teenagers, Phil." Martyn reaches out and slaps his brother on the arm. "I think the statute has expired at this point. You should be old enough to defend yourself, anyway." 

"Yeah!" Cornelia chimes up, straining against her seatbelt to stick her head between the seats. "Please, oh please, I want all the embarrassing stories about Marty Roo." 

"Marty Roo?" Phil repeats, cackling. "I think that just topped anything I could have said." 

"Never be ashamed of words borne in love," Martyn says, as passive about this as he is apparently everything else. "You'll learn that one day." 

"Ugh." Phil groans and slumps back. "That's why I can't defend myself. You've never done an uncool thing in your life. Except - oh, wait! That time at uni you tried to do the-"

"Shut up," Martyn says immediately. 

"I got you!" Phil punches a fist into the air, unfortunately miscalculating how long his arm is and bashing it into the slope of the car's roof. "Ow." 

Martyn doesn't say a word. He just looks smug.

*

Dan doesn't even know where they're going until they get there, but he's not really surprised when they find themselves at Arndale. He's been here a couple of times, mostly last Christmas in his desperate hunt to find last minute family gifts before he caught the train home. 

"Can we get a snack first? I’m peckish.” Phil asks, once he's righted himself from almost tripping out of the car. 

“Actually.” Martyn gives him a mildly apologetic look. “Corn and I are meeting some mates of mine first, I want to introduce her to them.” 

“Oh.” Phil looks taken aback momentarily. 

"We’ll meet up later for late lunch before we go home," Martyn says. "Synchronize watches?" 

“Sure,” Phil says, reluctance a faint trace in his voice. 

He actually has a watch. Dan silently agrees when Phil mumbles 'hipster' under his breath masked by a fake cough. 

Dan lifts up his phone. He doesn't really have any idea what's going on, but he puts in the two hour timer everyone else does. 

Martyn and Cornelia set off. Dan watches for a second as Cornelia immediately slips her hand into Martyn's, then looks away like he's just overseen something he wasn't supposed to. 

When he looks up again, Phil is staring at him with another slightly forced smile. "Do you want to come with me? I'm mostly shopping for mum and dad and Mar." 

"Sure," Dan says, realizing that it actually is better than the idea of just wandering around staring in shop windows hoping he doesn't see anyone he went to uni with. 

*

He's not sure how the pretzel shop ends up being the first stop they make, but as he bites into salty buttery dough he definitely isn't complaining. 

He lets out a noisy sigh of appreciation and then flushes when he catches Phil staring at him afterwards. 

"It's good," he says, a touch defensively. 

"Um." Phil laughs. "I don't think mine is quite as good as yours, based on that." 

Dan is actually embarrassed, but he tries to shrug it off. "Your loss, then." 

"So what’s on your shopping list?" Phil asks, taking pity on him and moving on from the teasing. 

Dan shrugs. "I guess something for my mum." 

"What's she like?" Phil asks. 

Dan feels gripped by a wave of something cold and sad. "I don't really know, I guess." 

He hates the way Phil frowns at that. 

"Well, what does she do for fun?" Phil tries again. 

"She, um... works a lot. Likes to travel, but... I dunno. She likes elephants. She's got all sorts of them around the house..." 

"Elephants," Phil says, nodding decisively. "We'll find elephant things. It's really helpful when people have an animal they like, isn't it? I like lions, so all my mates end up getting me weird lion things, but it's nice that when they see lions they think of me. Do you have something like that?" 

"Um," Dan says. "Not really." 

"Well, what's your favourite animal?" Phil asks. "Don't think about it, just say the first thing that comes to your mouth." 

Their pretzels are almost gone now and they seem to be just walking aimlessly. "Llama." 

"Now tell me why?" 

"I don't know!" Dan says. "Because you told me to say the first thing that came out of my mouth. I guess if you want me to think about it I'd say bear, because that's... um. My mum and dad used to call me that when I was younger." 

"That's cute," Phil says. "But it doesn't count. Your animal should be something you came up with, not what your family gave you." 

"You're taking this animal thing awfully seriously," Dan says. "Are you like, a furry or something?" 

Phil's eyes go wide and his mouth drops open. "No!" he says quickly. 

Maybe... too quickly? 

But they definitely aren't at the level friendship, or... whatever this is, for that. 

He still smirks, though. 

"Look," Phil says, pointing at a window display. "An elephant!" 

"Yeah I don't think my mum wants a designer infant onesie," Dan says. "She might get a hideously wrong idea and think I'm trying to tell her that I got someone pregnant."

"No girlfriend, then?" Phil asks, still staring at the onesie. 

He sounds a bit off. Dan isn't sure why, but the question makes Dan feel a bit off, too. 

"No," he says. "I had one in school, but we broke up." 

"Because of uni?" Phil asks. 

Dan shrugs. He's definitely not going to say it's because of his weird sexuality crisis and her eventual lack of patience with him. "Something like that. What about you?" 

He isn't sure what compels him to ask in return, but he does want to know. 

Phil just laughs. "No. I'm not... not." 

"Not what?" Dan asks. His heart is pounding suddenly. 

"I'm not... dating anyone," Phil says. He looks and Dan and shrugs. "Single and ready to mingle." 

"Ew," Dan says. "That's awful. Never say that again." 

Phil laughs and the strange moment of tension eases itself. "No promises." 

*

In the end he buys his mum and grandma the same thing, fancy boxes of chocolate dipped biscuits from Hotel Chocolat. He gets his brother chocolates shaped like little animals and hot chocolate for his grandad and after that he's almost out of money. 

"I can't ever get anyone chocolate," Phil says. "I'd eat them all before I even got home with them." 

"I believe you," Dan says, watching Phil pop at least his fifth free store sample in his mouth. The man behind the counter will definitely shout at them if Phil tries to get one more. "What else do you need to buy?"

Phil's picked up things for both parents and a board game for his brother. He says his family doesn't really like to play board games much, but Phil always makes them anyway. 

"You're such a brat," Dan says. "So you get them gifts they don't want but you do so you can force them to spend time with you?" 

Phil grins. "Yeah." 

"Brat," Dan says again.

"I'm just doing it to Martyn," Phil says. "It's his punishment for abandoning me." 

Dan lifts an eyebrow. "Abandoning you?" 

Phil looks a bit bashful suddenly. "Yeah, I Mean. This was always our tradition, you know? Ever since he got his driving license. Some time a week or two before Christmas me and him would spend a whole day shopping together before Christmas... but, mostly not shopping. We'd go to Forbidden Planet and get pretzels or see a movie. And we'd find Christmas gifts too, but mostly we just... hung out." 

Phil is actually wistful by the end of it. 

"That kind of sucks," Dan says, quietly. "That he brought a girlfriend home and suddenly you lose that tradition." 

Phil shrugs. He seems like he's trying not to be bothered. "I guess that's the theme of the season for me this year, yeah? Mum and Dad got a younger, cuter son and Martyn's got an actual girlfriend he's serious about..." 

Part of Dan wants to balk at the insinuation that he's replacing Phil, and part of him just wants to stop and note that Phil called him cute. 

"You know I'm not actually-" 

Phil doesn't even let him finish. "I know, I know. I'm being a brat again. This is fun, though. I like hanging out with you." 

Dan almost doesn't trust the openness with which Phil says it - but he tries to return it anyway. "Your mum really fucking saved me," Dan says, quietly. "Like, you don't even know." 

"You can tell me," Phil offers. "Some time. If you like." 

"Maybe." Dan doesn't actually want to, but he doesn't want to seem rude. "Hey, can we get a coffee? I really want a coffee." 

Phil's face lights up. "Yeah, let’s go to Costa!" 

*

They're about half an hour from meeting back up with Martyn and Cornelia when a shout comes down from the escalator they're walking by. "Oi, Lester!" 

Phil stops and turns, laughing. "Ben!" 

Dan obviously doesn't know any of the group of people that turn around and run back down the escalator, annoying more than a few people as they do it. 

"Haven't seen you in ages, mate!" The taller guy with sandy hair wraps Phil up in a big hug. He's wearing a football jersey and Dan feels very out of place from the start. 

"Hey, Ben." Phil hugs back. "Kar, Pete!" 

He seems so genuinely happy to see these people. 

Dan can't relate. 

"We were just going to get coffee," Phil says. 

Dread drops in Dan's stomach. There's really nothing he hates more than having to socialize with a group of people just slightly older than him that all know each other but don't know him at all. 

He's wondering if Phil would believe he's suddenly developed urgent stomach issues. Probably so, but in the end he decides that might be worse. 

So ten minutes later he finds himself sitting in the chair awkwardly pulled up to a table just too small to fit it, sipping from a caramel macchiato and wondering if this is what hell is. 

Until Ben looks right at Phil and says, "So, any hot dates lately?"

Phil almost drops his drink. Dan can tell something is up immediately. "No!" Phil says, with an almost frantic forced laugh. 

"Aw, come on, Phil! You were in the land of sunshine and speedos! Can't say you didn't taste the American delicacies? Find yourself a nice surfer with a six pack?" 

Phil looks mortified. "Ben-" His voice is shaking. 

Ben doesn't seem to notice, but Dan does and he feels such pains of empathy he can't help but blurt out, "Did any of you go to Manchester Uni?" 

They didn't, but it gets them all talking about the universities they did go to. Dan pretends to listen and ask some questions but he's mostly watching Phil out of the corner of his eye as Phil seems to come to grips with what just happened. 

Dan hasn't come to grips with it... and he probably won't until he's back alone in his bedroom and can have a proper freak out about the fact that he and Phil may have more in common than he thought. 

Eventually the color comes back to his face. Phil looks hard at Dan just once, a gaze that sticks and stays on him. 

Dan meets that look head on, then smiles just a little. Phil's eyes widen. 

Then he smiles back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _A fanfic based on the song “Honest man” by Ben Platt for any pairing you wish to do so Phan works_

Dan wakes up the next morning at the same time he always does, which isn't very difficult to do since he hasn't actually slept. 

He tried. He really did. He always tries. He doesn't want to feel like a human zombie walking around. But his head was too full of thoughts and his eyes just wouldn't stay closed. 

He's not sure if he's relieved or disappointed when he realizes Kath is already up and cooking. The smell leads him down and he finds himself standing sock-footed in the kitchen. The light coming in through the window feels soft and early, and she's humming something to herself. 

He thinks of his own mum, and suddenly for just a brief second he's gripping with missing her. It's not like he never does usually; it's just, most of the time all the worries feel heavier than the missing does. 

Even now, that's what chases it away. The second thought in his head is what she'd think if she knew he was living in someone else's home like this? Would she be embarrassed he's relying on the charity of strangers? Would she be relieved she doesn't have to deal with his messes? Would she be disappointed he's not at uni and she can't brag anymore to all her friends that her son is studying law? 

"I wonder which boy of mine is lurking about..." Kath says in a playful voice. 

"Oh, um," Dan speaks up. He doesn't know how to say _the one that isn't actually yours_. 

She just laughs. "Good morning, Dan. Toast and eggs sound good?" 

"You don't have to-" He says that every morning. 

"Nonsense," she says. "I'm making myself some anyway." 

Maybe she is, or maybe she just said that to make him feel better, but either way a few minutes later he's sat at the table with a plate in front of him. He's halfway through the eggs when Phil stumbles in bleary-eyed. 

"I'm starving," he announces, then falters slightly when he sees Dan. 

They haven't really talked since the lunch with Phil's friends. After they'd left that group they'd met back up with Martyn and Cornelia and then as soon as they were home Phil left again to hang out with his mate called Ian. 

By the time he'd come back, Dan and already been an hour into failing to sleep. He'd listened to the sound of Phil's footsteps and briefly thought about going to talk to him, but - what would he say? 

_I kissed a lot of boys when I was fifteen._

or 

_So how many times did you get knocked around and shouted names at?_

or 

_I decided I can't be bent but it's okay if you are._

So he'd just kept lying there until his eyes burned with exhaustion and guilt, just like the coward he always has been. 

He could be a coward now, as Phil is staring right at him, but he's suddenly caught in a strange limbo of inaction. They're just looking at each other, eyes locked, and then Kath turns around and hands Phil a plate and the gaze is broken for them. 

*

It turns out that Kath is in the kitchen because her ritual of Christmas baking is about to begin. 

She allows them time to eat and then announces that anyone remaining in her domain is about the enlisted as an assistant. 

"I'll stay," Phil says. 

Kath looks at him. "That's because he likes to filch the biscuits that don't turn out." 

"It's payment," Phil insists. “For services rendered.” 

"I'll stay too," Dan finds himself saying, without thinking about it. "At least until Nigel's back." 

*

Dan's enlistment into Kath's Culinary Army turns out to last longer than he'd expected since Nigel, it turns out, is in town shopping and then meeting someone for lunch. 

When he rang and spoke with Kath he told her to pass on the message to Dan that he could just have the morning off so by ten am, he's got a sore elbow from stirring thick sticky biscuit dough and flour on more places than he'd like to acknowledge. 

Most of it isn't his fault. Most of it got there because Phil's an absolute disaster in the kitchen and tends to send clouds of white up every time he tries to add flour to anything. 

"Alright," Kath says, pointing between them. "I've got to go start the laundry. Can you boys be trusted while I’m gone?" 

"Of course," Phil says, and leans in to kiss her cheek. 

"Don't trust you a bit," she tells him. "Dan, you're in charge." 

Dan just laughs. He has to laugh or else he'll bolt upstairs because they've somehow managed to keep a maternal sized barrier between them all morning and now there's just... the two of them. 

There's no reason to be scared, Dan tells himself. It's just Phil. He likes Phil, sort of. They'd been getting there at least. He doesn’t have a reason to not like Phil. Especially if Phil is… if he and Phil do have stuff in common. 

"Want to switch?" Phil asks. 

"Huh?" 

"I'll stir, you put these in?" Phil holds up the tray full of slightly misshapen balls of dough. 

It does look a bit like Phil is trying to ensure the most imperfect ones that he can, but Dan doesn't call him on it. "Don't trust yourself with the oven?" 

Phil pouts, bottom lip sticking out. Dan averts his eyes before he thinks something treacherous like _cute_. "No. I burn myself every year."

"Sure," Dan says. His arm really could use a break. Once he gets the biscuits in the oven, he looks down at a smear of powdery white on the leg of his joggers and then says, "You've got this, right? I'm gonna take a shower." 

He leaves before Phil even responds. 

*

He does take a shower, and standing naked under a too-hot spray his mind wanders again in that way he’s never had too much control over. 

It's not that Phil isn't cute, as an objective fact. Dan's got eyes. Humans appreciate aesthetics. He's not stupid enough to deny that.   
He just can't linger there. Every drunken kiss at a uni party or time he danced too close to someone with a nice firm chest just led to fear and nightmares and he can’t, he can’t. He’s got too much other shit on his plate right now.

*

Phil is still in the kitchen when Dan comes back downstairs an hour later. Phil is still at the kitchen table, two bowls and a baking tray in front of him. 

"Mum's out," he says. He seems more withdrawn than he had before. "We ran out of butter." 

"Oh," Dan says. He takes a step back but then he stops. "Do you need help?"

Phil can't hide his slight surprise when he looks up. "Really?" 

Dan shrugs. "Unless your dad is back and needs me to do something." 

"No, he's still out." Phil nods to the chair beside him. "Come help me shape these." 

"What are they?" Dan asks. 

"They're like biscuits except you kinda... twist them? My grandma used to make them with me. These are just for us, so it doesn't matter if they're ugly or not. They taste good either way! Once they're twisted we just sprinkle on sugar or hundreds and thousands." 

From his now seated position Dan can see that one bowl has red dough and the other has green. 

It looks easy enough. Dan reaches in and grabs a bit of the green dough, then the red. He looks over at Phil and says, "What next? Just roll them out?" 

"Yeah, just like, use your hands." Phil pulls at the dough until it's stretched out a bit and then rolls it gently with his palms to give it a smoother shape. "Don't make them too thick or they won't bake even. Yeah, like that!" 

It's probably dumb to read this way, but Dan still feels himself glowing a bit at the praise. He's definitely got some sort of kink for being told he hasn't failed at something. He could probably get in the Guinness book for most pathetic reaction to minor praise ever. 

He gets into the pattern of making them after that, carefully working the dough. By his third one his look decidedly neater and less rushed than Phil's, but he doesn't bother pointing out that. 

"They were just taking the piss," Phil says suddenly, still focused on his work with his eyes cast down. 

"What?" Dan asks. 

"Yesterday at the Arndale," Phil says. "Ben always jokes around like that. He wasn't... I'm not... If you thought I was. I'm not." 

"Oh," Dan says. 

Phil doesn't sound convincing. He sounds terrified. He's still holding two pieces of dough in his hands, but he's not moving them. 

Dan's heart pounds. He gets it. He knows that feeling. He knows that _fear_. 

It feels like a bucket of cold ice has been dumped on him right now. 

"Don't tell my mum and dad," Phil goes on. "About Ben's joke." 

_Oh._

"I won't," Dan says. He’s spent what feels like his whole life, since he was thirteen at least, feeling that way about anyone that he thought might know him too well. Now someone feels that way about him. Feels that afraid of him. The words just spill out of his mouth. "I used to be afraid my mum get nosy and look for my Myspace and see bisexual on my profile. Or even worse, that someone would just show it to her." 

Phil's head jerks around. "What?" 

Dan feels queasy suddenly. What if he's wrong? What if Phil's friend really was just taking the piss? What if Dan's misread everything? 

"I took it down after a few months," Dan continues, because sometimes when he's nervous his mouth just keeps moving without permission. "And then I had a girlfriend, so like, crisis averted I guess, but I still have nightmares about it." 

Phil is still just staring at him. "Oh," he says, and he sounds breathless now. 

Breathless, but… not afraid.

Dan can't look back. He can't see whatever is on Phil's face. He feels like every nerve in his body is screaming to run away right now. 

He twists two more pieces of dough together. "So sugar on the finished ones, you said?" 

Phil starts slightly. "Oh, yeah. Sugar, right. Um - here, I'll show you." 

Phil sprinkles and Dan watches and they don't talk much about anything until Kath gets home and joins them. 

*

Dan's busy all afternoon, helping sort out last minute things Nigel needs to get printed out and mailed off. He's also trying to make some sense of the online business calendar, googling what he doesn't already know and working on something that he thinks will be easier to read and efficient. 

It's probably weird that his own life is such a mess but he's enjoying the learning curve of keeping someone else put together so much. 

He sits at his little corner desk that Nigel has installed in the office working until Nigel says, "Oh, I forgot! Office party on Friday evening - you're an official employee now so you'll be there, naturally, but Kath and the boys always come along as well. And Cornelia too, this year! We'll have a full house.." 

The words 'office party' strike terror in Dan's heart. 

Then Nigel brings up something even scarier. "You'll also get two days before Christmas, the day itself, and boxing day off just as the employees in the office do. If you need more time, just between us, I'm amenable." 

He winks and Dan's aware that Nigel is trying to do him a favor. There's no possible way he can express that he'd be more grateful if Nigel played like a hardass and demanded Dan not miss a single day of work. 

But of course Nigel won't do that. 

And Dan does have to go home for Christmas. 

Doesn't he? 

He does. 

Even though he hasn't spoken to anyone in almost a month now. But he doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to think about it. 

"Thanks," Dan says, smiling in a way he hopes comes across as genuine. 

Nigel seems to accept it. He nods pleasantly and pushes his reading glasses up his nose. Dan takes a moment longer than he should to look at him, the lines in his face and silvered hair. He looks like a father; like someone warm and comforting. 

Dan’s never had any reason to fear him. But people can change suddenly when they find out something about you that doesn’t fit who they thought you were. He feels deep in his gut that Kath and Nigel would still be good people, would still love their son, but he thinks of his own dad and how many times over the years he made Dan feel tiny and insignificant and the jokes he used to make… 

He’ll keep Phil’s secret, and Phil will keep his. 

He hopes.

*

He'll sleep tonight, Dan thinks. 

He has to. 

It's been a long, exhausting day and he's not sure how he'll function as a person if he doesn't. But he's not too worried, because this is how his cycle usually goes; three or four nights of barely sleeping and then he crashes. It's like his body just says it's had enough of his brain's shit and it's doing it's own thing. 

Only it sucks because those tend to be the nights he sleeps for fifteen hours and nothing wakes him up. To try and combat that he sets five alarms on his phone at intervals of ten minutes each, then puts his phone on the other side of the room. 

He opens the door to his bedroom with every intention of going to the bathroom to have a wee and brush his teeth then commencing the crash phase, but there's something blocking him - a familiar head of shaggy black hair and blue eyes so close they must be almost nose to nose. 

They both jump back a bit. 

"Uh," Dan says. "I was just... going to the toilet." 

"Me too," Phil says, though it seems strange that he was stood in front of Dan's door if he really wasn't lingering on purpose. 

They both keep standing there. Dan's beginning to doubt he and Phil know how to function in a way that isn't loaded heavy silence. 

Then Phil breaks it. "Actually I've already brushed my teeth," he says. "I was going back to my room. So... it's all yours." 

"Thanks," Dan says. 

Phil doesn't seem to be done, so he waits. 

"I never had a Myspace," Phil says suddenly. "But I did download this stupid dating app a couple years ago when I was still in uni, and someone from Rawtenstall found it and showed all my friends. It was mortifying." 

"Wow," Dan says faintly. 'Traumatizing. Did you at least get any good dates out of it?" 

Phil laughs. It's probably too loud for the late night. "No! I'm still mad about it. But that’s how they all find out I’m…” 

Dan interrupts him before Phil can finish the sentence. He doesn’t want to hear the word. It’s always made him feel weird.. "I'm lucky my mum has remained computer illiterate and probably doesn't even know what Myspace is." 

"That's good," Phil says. "Mine's the same. I hope at least." 

"Yeah," Dan agrees. "But it's... you know. It's cool. I won't say anything." 

Phil smiles at him, a beaming wide smile. "Thanks, Dan. You're the best." 

Dan’s not. He’s really, really not. But suddenly he wants Phil to think he is so he just smiles and wonders how the fuck this became his life.


	6. Chapter 6

Dan truly does not want to be at this office party. 

He likes Nigel well enough and he's gotten used to the Lester clan, but this is a rented out room full of people in fancier dress than he is, sipping wine from flutes and enjoying appetizers brought around on trays that are mostly things Dan can't pronounce. 

He wishes he could sit in the corner with Phil and Martyn and Martyn's girlfriend. They look comfortable; occasionally chatting with people that stop by but otherwise stationary. 

Dan doesn't get the luxury. He understands that Nigel really does just want Dan to meet all the people he's been exchanging emails and phone calls with for the past couple of weeks. It really is flattering how Nigel seems to have no intention of Dan being a temporary employee; he's already boasting how nice it is to have his own assistant, how he can't understand how he managed before. 

And Dan believes him. All the things Nigel is bragging about - they're true and they're things Dan did. So that's nice. 

It's just... so many new people. So many names and faces and handshakes. So many people asking what he does, if he's got a girlfriend or brought a date, where he's from, all those small talk details that feel like actual torture. 

He lies and says he's studying law at Manchester. Says he doesn't have a girlfriend and hopes desperately that no one tries to set him up. He had enough of that from his grandmother back in Wokingham. 

He's been there almost an hour when he finally escapes under the guise of getting a drink. He does actually get the drink - downing one glass of wine and then swapping it out for another - before finding a hallway that's empty and quiet and he can actually breathe in. 

For a few minutes, at least. 

"Dan?" A voice asks. 

Dan startles so hard he almost spills his wine, but luckily the voice is familiar. 

"What the fuck," Dan says. 

"Did I jumpscare you?" Phil sounds delighted. "I never manage to scare people when I try to do it on purpose. Martyn is the worst, he just laughs at me." 

"Well, you aren't exactly quiet, mate." Dan's gotten used to hearing Phil stomp his way to the bathroom every morning. 

"Excuse you," Phil says. "I am sneaky like a ninja." 

"You are sneaky like an elephant," Dan corrects. 

"So what are you doing here?" Phil steps further into the hallway and leans against the wall opposite Dan. "Hiding?" 

"Yeah," Dan admits. "It's just... a lot out there." 

"Did Marjorie start telling you about her daughter?" Phil smirks. "She gets me with that every time." 

"Wow," Dan says. "I'm being offered your sloppy seconds? I'm offended." 

Phil snorts. "Seconds? No freaking way. I've never... I mean. She's not my type." 

Dan lifts an eyebrow. "You've... never?" 

"Not with... you know," Phil says. "A girl. Why? Have you?" 

"Yeah," Dan says. "I had a girlfriend for years." 

"Oh, right, I guess that makes sense." Phil gestures a hand. Dan has no idea what it's supposed to mean, but then Phil clarifies. "Bi, and all." 

Part of Dan wants to argue. He's not even sure what he is. What is attraction? Is it looking at someone and thinking they're beautiful? Or is that just aesthetic appreciation? Is attraction who you daydream about holding hands with? Or is that just loneliness? Is it possible to just be attracted to someone because they're attracted to you and you like the attention? What if everything he's felt for someone before was just a manifestation of his deep-rooted loneliness? It's all too much and so he just says, "Yeah." 

*

He and Phil hide in the hallway for at least twenty minutes before they venture back out. Nigel's occupied talking to a group of older men all in gaudy Christmas shirts and doesn't seem to be looking for Dan at all, so Dan claims his third class of wine and joins Phil and Martyn and Cornelia at the round table they're stationed at. 

"You found him!" Martyn cheers. He looks like he's had a few glasses himself, which is to say he looks exactly the same only his eyes have gone a bit glassy and he's resting his hand on Cornelia's leg. "We were trying to decide how to stage a rescue mission." 

"I talked them out of pulling the fire alarm," Cornelia says. "But Plan B was to burst into song like they do in - what was it again?" 

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," Phil says, in the voice of someone who believes this question shouldn't even have to be asked. 

"Phil's wife," Martyn says. "Or girlfriend. Or illicit lover. I still never want to know what you do with that cardboard cutout." 

Phil's face goes red instantly. "Nothing! It's not... like that." 

His voice is weak at the end, with a touch of genuine upset. 

Dan gets why. 

"I believe you," he says to Phil. Then to Martyn and Cornelia "Even the cardboard Buffy is too good for him." 

"Oi!" Phil shoves Dan's arm, laughing with relief and surprise. "You're so rude!" 

"I am perfectly fucking polite," Dan says back, tongue looser than it might normally be. He's not drunk enough to feel drunk, just edging toward it. "Not my fault your type is blonde and American." 

"Well." Phil pokes his tongue out from between his lips. "I guess I can't entirely argue that." 

For some reason, Dan actually bristles at that. "She's not even a natural blonde," he reminds Phil. 

"Aw, are you jealous?" Phil coos. Dan's blood runs cold on pure instinct before Phil finishes with, "I can't help it if Buffy loves me more." 

Even though Phil clearly wasn't about to say anything Dan wouldn't want said, it's hard for Dan to shake the surge of panic. 

"Right," he says. "I'm gonna go get another drink." 

*

He finishes his fourth glass quickly and grabs a fifth. 

It's probably the point where he should stop but he needs to pretend he's busy doing something so he can try to process the fact that Phil accused him of being jealous and he couldn't just laugh it off. 

Is he ridiculous enough to fancy the first gay guy he's in proximity to do that's halfway decent to him? 

Well, he recognizes. Maybe he is. 

But he should still know better. He should still be better than this. Phil doesn't deserve some confused mess of a person pining around after him. Phil probably had hot blonde American guys falling all over him while he was doing his work experience. He probably hooked up with guys that had muscles and actual tans that didn't go orange and hair that looked good naturally and didn't take half an hour with straighteners to even be halfway passable. Guys that had university degrees and- 

He puts his glass down and grabs the edge of the table, halfway to hyperventilating. 

"Dan?" A hand drops to his shoulder, but it's not Phil. It's Cornelia instead. 

Dan straightens and turns to her. "Hey, yeah. Hi." 

"Nigel pulled Phil and Martyn away, so I thought I'd come see what you were doing over here all alone." 

"Panicking," Dan admits. 

She frowns. "What's wrong?" 

He takes a deep breath. He could spill all his secrets, but self-preservation is too strong. "Nothing," he says. "Just - I get weird about a lot of people like this." 

"Introvert," she says, knowingly. "Me, too. I've always got to charge my batteries loads after any kind of party or show." 

Dan latches onto that. It's not like it isn't true. "Yeah," he says. "And this is weird because I've never been to a work event for a job I had like this. I used to go with my mum to hers but that was different. She owned the company." 

Cornelia laughs. "So, like Phil and Martyn, then? Lots of smiling polite and knowing everyone's walking on eggshells around you because they don't want to get in bad with the boss?" 

"I guess," Dan says, smiling. He doesn't remember it like that, but he supposes it's true. 

"But now you're meeting people who are your contemporaries," she says. "That's always scary." 

Just hearing her say it provides some validation that Dan hadn't been aware he needed. Even though that wasn't the issue he was frantically circling around in her head, he does feel relieved to have at least this one small thing acknowledged as legitimate. 

"If I'd had to apply for this job like anyone else, I'd never have gotten it," Dan says. "My CV only has Focus and ASDA on it. I don't deserve this kind of opportunity." 

"Sometimes we get things we don't deserve," Cornelia says, voice soft and accented and sounding so wise Dan has no choice but to believe her. "And we have to accept it just the same as we accept that the bad luck we get isn't our fault. Life is a beautiful, scary, random thing and we just try to survive each new direction it spins us in." 

Dan looks up and Phil's across the room, just over her shoulder. His breath catches in his threat as their eyes meet and Phil smiles encouragingly at him. 

Dan smiles back, then looks down at Cornelia. "Yeah," he says. "I guess you're right." 

*

"I drank too much," Dan says, sighing wistfully. 

He's crammed into the backseat of Nigel's car. Phil's in the middle and Martyn's to his side, Cornelia primly sat sideways on his lap. Kath and Nigel are chatting away up front and Martyn's whispering in Cornelia's ear, so Phil is the only one really paying attention to Dan at all. 

"Me too," Phil says. "I could sleep for a whole year." 

"I could sleep for a decade." 

"I could sleep for a century." 

"I could... um... what comes after a century?" 

"Millennium?" 

"I could sleep for a millennium." 

Phil giggles. "You'd have to wee so bad when you woke up." 

"I mean if we're accounting for natural bodily processes still happening then I'd have been dead for so long that weeing myself wouldn't matter." 

"Ew," Phil says. "No dying. No dead. Live forever. Robot bodies." 

"I don't want a robot body," Dan says, shifting a little. Phil's arm is pressed between them and he wiggles it out, but then it has nowhere to go. It ends up resting lightly where their legs are pressed together. "I'd end up getting a virus in my AI brain and spend all of eternity trying to figure out how to click in the x in the corner of porn ads." 

Phil laughs so loudly that Martyn and Cornelia both look at them. He doesn't even notice, but Dan does, grinning sheepishly. Probably best not to talk about porn while in the car with his landlord-slash-employer. 

But Phil is still laughing and Dan feels warm all over from the alcohol and maybe other things. There's a nudging against his leg and he looks down to see Phil's fingers flexing. He's not sure if it's on purpose or not, but it makes his mouth go dry. 

"Home again, home again," Kath sings out. 

Phil pulls his hand back into his lap and Dan tries not to mourn the loss of the touch. 

*

Dan's just pulled on a shirt to sleep in when there's a soft knock at his door. 

"Yeah?" He says. 

He's sure it's Phil, because Phil's the only one that pops in just to say goodnight sometimes. That's why he's not surprised when Phil sticks his head in the door. "Are you decent?" 

"You're meant to ask that before you come in, not after," Dan says. 

He is actually in just his pants and the t-shirt, but he crosses his arms over his chest and decides to be brave. It's not like people who go swimming around him don't see more. Far more, in that one instance with the waterslide. 

"Oh, right." Phil grins a cheeky as fuck little grin. "Forgot." 

That definitely sends butterflies soaring in Dan's still-tipsy stomach. "Did you need something?" 

Phil pushes the door open. He's just in his pants, too. Dan wonders if that took bravery on Phil's part or if Phil thought nothing of it. Phil's probably had loads of guys see him naked. 

Dan hates that. Really hates it. A lot. It's also unfair how he can go from normal to seething jealousy in .02 seconds with nothing substantial to base it on. 

"No," Phil says. "Just wanted to say goodnight." 

Dan won't look down. He won't notice that Phil's pants are blue and purple striped. He won't be thinking of this in half an hour with his hand shoved between his legs. 

"Right," Dan says, shifting on his feet. "Goodnight, then." 

Phil doesn't move. He just stays there, standing, smiling. "I'm glad you're here. I haven't had so much fun at an office party since Martyn was still immature enough to want to play hide and seek with me under the food tables." 

"So like, last year?" Dan asks. 

Phil does that cute grin with the tongue poking out again. He feels immensely pleased at having evoked that twice in one night. 

Oh, he's so fucked. 

"Yeah," Phil agrees. "Alright, goodnight then, Dan." 

He adds the way Phil saying his name makes him feel mushy inside to the Unfair list. 

"Goodnight-" He yawns a massive yawn because all that wine still has him feeling wrapped in cotton blankets and his bed really is right there. "-Phil." 

Phil smiles wider and takes a step back, hand on the doorknob. "See you in the morning."


	7. Chapter 7

Dan can't avoid his mum forever. 

He stares at the phone with her photo on the caller display. His stomach feels full of rocks and he wills himself to tap the answer button but his finger stays motionless. 

He keeps holding his phone until a minute passes and a voicemail shows up. 

He listens to it. 

_Dan. You never answer the bloody phone, do you? I know the term is over but you haven't given us a sign of life in days. Your nana's worried half to death over you and I'd like to see you myself just to give you a knock about the head. I've put money for a train ticket home into your account. Please use it._

She sounds aggravated. He doesn't blame her, not really. But he has a lump in his throat and for a moment all he wants to do is ring her up and cry so maybe she'll not shout at him. Maybe she'd even give him a hug. 

She does love him. Of course she does. She's his mum. 

He pulls his knees up to his chest and stares at the screen. 

If he doesn't go back, what will he do? The Lesters will expect him out at some point before the day itself. Kath's been assuming all the while that Dan's got parents to go back and see. He's just smiled and brushed it off every time she asked. 

Can he even imagine spending Christmas alone? Where would he go? His stomach churns and he picks up the phone, ringing home before he can change his mind. 

*

"I'll be going home on Friday, if that's alright with you," Dan blurts out. 

Nigel looks up from his desk. They've only been working for a couple of hours and Nigel's already said he'll be out in the afternoon. It's only Monday so he's got another whole work week here but he has the feeling that the closer it gets to the actual holiday weekend, the less motivation to do actual job things Nigel will have. "You're welcome to leave before that if you'd like," Nigel says. "Family time is important." 

Dan shakes his head. "That's alright." 

Nigel looks concerned. "Everything alright, son?" 

Dan hates that question. He hates that kind look. He doesn't know what to do with it. He doesn't know how to answer. "It's just a lot over the holidays," he finally says, which is surprisingly... the truth. Not all of it, but a start to it, at least. 

To Dan's surprise, Nigel smiles knowingly. "It can't be, can't it? Much as I do love seeing friends and family, sometimes when they were younger and the house was full of bustle and chatter me and my boys would just sneak downstairs and I'd play a few rounds of video games with them. Not much of a video game player myself but it was always a fun time with them trying to teach me." 

Nigel looks so fond that Dan feels almost sick. 

His dad certainly never did that with him. 

His mum might have, though. If Dan had ever given her any indication that he'd like it. 

"Well," Nigel says, pushing his glasses up his nose. "We'll find plenty to keep you busy until Friday, I imagine." 

*

He's not wrong. 

Even when he's not in the office, he does give Dan plenty to do. Dan enjoys it - he has his headphones and, surprisingly, some pleasant company. 

He's not sure what happened to Phil spending all of his time with friends but suddenly Phil's finding reasons to be hanging out in the home office, sometimes helping Dan and sometimes just sitting in his father's oversized office chair and spinning circles behind the desk until he complains he feels ill and needs to have a lie down on the floor. 

"Oi," Dan says, kicking Phil's foot. "Why do you keep doing it if you get motion sickness so badly?" 

Phil pouts pitifully. "Because it's fun, and I have no impulse control." 

Dan rolls his eyes. He already feels like he knows Phil well enough that he can't argue with that. 

"So," Phil says, after such a long bout of silence that Dan thought he might have fallen asleep while Dan was sorting contracts that need to be scanned in. "When are you going home?" 

"Um," Dan says. The word feels heavy on his tongue still. "Friday." 

"Oh, that's not so bad!" Phil sits up. His hair is at least twenty percent more of a birds nest than before he laid down, but somehow it still manages to look good like that. "We've got all week." 

"We do?" Dan asks. "For what?" 

Phil opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again sounding sheepish. "I dunno. Just to hang out I guess." 

Dan grins down at the contract in his hand. "You wanna hang out with me?" 

"Oh shut up," Phil says, laughing. "You know I do." 

He does? 

"I do?" 

"Well," Phil says. "You should." 

Dan's heart starts to pound faster. It's weird how he went from never having that happen to it basically happening whenever he's in the same room with Phil. 

"Mate, I don't exactly have people beating the door down to spend time with me," Dan says. "So yeah, you may have to spell it out." 

Phil obediently starts to rattle off letters. "U. R. K. E. W. L." 

"What." Dan levels a stare at him. "No."

Phil grins a rare toothy grin. "You said to!" 

"Those weren't actual words." 

"It's netspeak," Phil says. "It's what the cool kids use." 

"You've never been a cool kid in your life." 

"Sure I have," Phil argues. "I'm k-e-w-l cool." 

"I actually may hate you." 

"You actually don't," Phil says, getting to his feet and hopping up on the desk. His legs swing down, feet brushing the ground still. "We should do something before you leave. I'm going stir crazy in this house. All my friends are off doing like, family things." 

Well, that explains that, Dan thinks. He's not a first choice, but... fuck, he's on the list, so that's an improvement. 

"Sure," he says, trying to sound casual and not like he's about to shit himself. "That'd be fun." 

"Awesome!" Phil swings is legs out and then hops slightly to land on his feet. "Maybe we can see a movie or something." 

He does sound genuinely excited. Dan smiles down at the contract... the same one he's been holding. He realizes it might be weird that he's basically not moved in like two minutes so he adds it to the alphabetical stack to his left. "Sounds good." 

"Okay, yeah. I'll um - let you work some more. See you at dinner? Or before. Probably before. And after! I'm gonna make Martyn and Cornelia play scrabble - I always beat Martyn, it makes him so angry. You could play too? If you want to?" 

"I love Scrabble," Dan says. "I used to play with my grandparents. My grandma never let me win. Didn't matter how cute I was as a six year old. She was ruthless." 

Phil laughs. "I won't let you win either," he says. "So don't even try that cute act on me." 

Dan should reply, but words freeze in his throat. 

"Anyway," Phil quickly adds. "Yeah, I'm gonna - go. Get a snack. See you later!" 

He's out the door before Dan has recovered. 

*

He has a couple of hours between finishing up the work Nigel left him, and when dinner will be ready. He doesn't fancy spending it in the family room where a couple of cousins have settled themselves in for a visit, so he goes right up to his room instead. 

When he opens his laptop he's only expecting the normal lot of pointless emails from stories trying to shill what items are on offer last minute before Christmas. 

He isn't expecting to see a message from one of his professors from last semester, in his regular inbox thanks to the message forwarding system he set up from his university one. 

He slams the computer shut. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." 

He keeps muttering the word over and over as he paces around the room, staring at the laptop on his bed like it's a ticking time bomb. 

He doesn't even want to be in the same room with it. He flings the door open and then just... stands there, in the hallway. He looks across and Phil's door is open, just a bit. He isn't really thinking things out, he just has a deep-rooted need to distract himself from any urge to read the email. Procrastination is a coping mechanism if you're stubborn enough. 

So he knocks lightly on the door, even though the pressure of his knuckles against the wood just opens it further. "Hi?" 

Phil sits up up quickly, the phone he'd been typing into falling onto his lap. "Dan! Hi!" 

Dan stands in the doorway just looking for a moment. He hasn't seen Phil's room before. He's immediately surprised at how unlike the rest of the house it looks. His secondary realization is that it fits, because this room looks like Phil. It's all greens and blues and chaotic and mess, pictures tacked to surfaces and a computer with three pairs of headphones in the corner. 

Dan's room doesn't look like himself at all. This one doesn't and his one back home didn't and his uni accommodations didn't and the flat he lived in for the past six months certainly didn't. He can't actually imagine feeling as at home as this one specific place. 

He'd like to, of course. But that's a crisis to have another day. His head's too full of the other thing right now and he just wants to fucking empty it out. 

"You want to play Singstar?" He asks. 

He's not sure why it's the first thing that came to mind, but he knows Phil has it and he thinks maybe the noise and insanity of it is exactly what he needs. 

*

Phil is absolutely awful at Singstar. 

It doesn't help that he gets louder the more he gets heckled, and once Martyn and Cornelia and a friendly guy about their age referred to as Cousin Alex hear the commotion and come into the basement he gets heckled a _lot_. 

Dan's laughing so hard he's almost crying by the time he warbles his way through Paint it Black. 

When his turn is over he sits back onto the sofa, squishing into the space between Phil and the arm. He's somehow unsurprised when Cornelia puts them all to shape by being actually, properly good. 

They heckle her, too. She laughs and is completely unphased and croons her heart out. Phil tilts his head a bit and looks over at Dan and smiles. "Hey," he says. "You know what we should do?" 

Dan narrows his eyes. Phil's voice sounds a little too sweet. "What?" He asks. It's not an agreement, per se, but somehow five minutes later he still finds himself in the midst of a brutally incompetent duo cover of Toxic. 

* 

By the time Kath hauls them all up to eat, Dan's stomach hurts from laughing so much. 

It is exactly what he needed. He feels looser and relaxed all throughout the meal, even voluntarily having a whole conversation with Alex about Reading Festival since Alex apparently went, too. 

Phil tries to jump in even though he's never been to a music festival and, from the way he comments, he wouldn't like it anyway. Dan thinks it may just be that Phil's feeling left out so he starts to ask Phil about things Phil did in uni and before long Alex has turned to the other side of the table and fluidly engaged in a topic Dan hasn't even caught enough of to follow. 

When dinner is over and they're all had more cakes than one table of humans should ever consume, Alex and the other cousins leave. Phil keeps his promise about corralling everyone into a board game, even his parents. 

Any other night Dan would take his leave before it got to this point, but that laptop is still upstairs on his bed, and he still doesn't want to face it. It's just not fair, really; he already did one scary thing today. He talked to his mum. He made plans to go home. The universe shouldn't immediately throw another shit thing at him. 

So he sips mulled wine and plays Scrabble and then a game of Risk and then just sits and watches Phil and Martyn play the same sort of slap hand game that every child throughout the ages has probably played at some point or another. 

*

"Alright," Martyn says, yawning and stretching his hands over his head. "Time for bed." 

Cornelia blinks eyes that already seem half asleep. "You children and your bedtimes - ahh!" 

She squeals as Martyn scoops her right up in his arms as though she's nothing. "Says the one who was snoring," he comments. 

They're so cute that Dan almost wants to avert his eyes. He doesn't need to, though - they're out of the room a moment later, Cornelia waving over Martyn's shoulder. 

"Your brother is nice," Dan says. It's true - he hasn't spent nearly as much time with Martyn as he has Phil, but Martyn is actually nice. 

"You're not allowed to like him more than me," Phil says immediately. "Everyone always does."

They're still sitting close together even though no one else is taking up space on the sofa anymore. Dan rests his head on the cushion and stares up at the ceiling. "I won't," he answers. "I don't." 

"You like me best?" 

"Stop fishing," Dan says. He cracks one eye open and sees that Phil has copied Dan's position, looking up at the ceiling. "I do like you best." 

"Good," Phil says. "I like you best, too."

Dan doesn't bother pointing out that there's no one for Phil to really compare him to. "You wouldn't if you really knew me." 

"I don't think that's true," Phil says. 

Suddenly Dan feels like crying. He squeezes his eyes together tight. "I'm a coward." 

"Why?" 

He can't bring himself to say it. He just shrugs. "Just am." 

He's not expecting what Phil says next. 

"I think I am, too." 

"No you're not," Dan immediately says. 

"But I am," Phil insists. "My dad keeps asking me where I've put in applications for, but I haven't put in any at all. I don't want to apply to jobs because what if I get one and I hate it? And I have to do it for the rest of my life anyway? That'd be _awful_!" 

Something in Dan cracks at Phil's sincere confession. 

"I think I dropped out of uni." 

Phil doesn't say anything at all at first, and then: "That's alright." 

"No it's fucking not," Dan spits out. "It's awful and I'm a failure. I did a year and a half of law at university and then failed out because I'm too much of an idiot and too incompetent to finish." 

"Dan!" Phil scolds him. "You are not. My dad thinks you're brilliant, and trust me, he's got high standards." 

Dan would really love to believe him, but everything bad feels like too much and everything good feels like something he shouldn't trust. 

"I should go to bed," Dan says. 

He's not sleepy at all. He just feels small and scared. 

"Yeah," Phil says, sighing. "I guess me too." 

They stand in the quiet room. When Phil flips the light switch, the room is cast in darkness except for the glow of the simple lamp. 

"Dan?" Phil asks. "Can I ask a weird question?" 

"Sure," Dan says. 

"Can I hug you?" 

Dan isn't even sure how to respond. "What?" 

"Oh. Was that stupid? I guess that was stupid. I just-" 

"Phil." Dan interrupts him. "Yeah. You can." 

It's awkward at first, Phil stepping in and putting his arms around Dan. Dan hugs back because otherwise it would feel even more weird, but then Phil squeezes tight and something shifts. It goes from feeling awkward and weird to both of them holding on and Dan can't remember the last time he actually hugged someone. 

"Thanks," Phil says, voice close to Dan's ear, then he pulls back. 

Dan doesn't want to let go but he drops his arms to his sides anyway. "Don't know what you're thanking me for." He pretends his voice doesn't sound as shaky as it does. 

Phil smiles. "Fine, be that way, then." 

He turns and walks upstairs and Dan follows behind him. They nod a second goodnight in the space between their bedroom doors. 

The laptop is still on Dan's bed. He picks it up and moves it, putting it on a chair and then covering it with his laptop bag. He's full of enough turmoil now, too much to sort through tonight. He doesn't think he can physically handle whatever the email contains. 

As he falls asleep, he decides to think about the hug instead.


	8. Chapter 8

The house is quiet when Dan leaves Nigel's office. 

There are only three more days before he gets on a train and goes back to Wokingham. He's spoken with his mum. He's bought the tickets. 

He's going to have a fucking breakdown before he even leaves Manchester. 

Luckily, Nigel isn't here. He and Kath are both out doing some sort of luncheon with some sort of association that they're part of. Dan's made good progress on things, spurred out of his room by sheer avoidance of that university email he doesn't want to look at and the trip home he doesn't want to think about. 

Maybe this is the secret to being productive, he reasons. Have something you're procrastinating so hard you'll do literally anything to have a reason to avoid it. 

*

Dan doesn't forget Phil saying he wants to hang out, but he still somehow isn't expecting it when Phil pops into the office midday and says, "What about Avatar?" 

"What about it?" Dan asks. 

"Do you want to go see it later?" Phil sounds casual - too casual? Or is that just what casual people sound like when they're being casual. 

Which Dan wouldn't know. He's never been casual a day in his life. The only setting his brain has is 'angst' and 'overthink.' 

"Sure," Dan says. "What time is it playing?" 

"Seven," Phil answers immediately. Dan likes the idea that Phil looked up the times even before he came in here with Dan. "It's long, so we'll want to eat first. I know a place near the cinema that's good."

Dinner. And a movie. 

Dan's heart crawls up into his throat. "Sounds good," he says. 

Phil grins widely at him, looking inexplicably relieved. "Great! I've got to go to the store for mum but... I'll see you in a bit!" 

"Yeah," Dan says, laughing. "I mean, I'll be here." 

"Right. Of course you will. Yeah. Okay, bye!" Phil beams again and then he's gone. 

*

He definitely doesn't spend half an hour deciding what to wear. 

(It's more like forty-five minutes.)

*

He's only sees Kath and Nigel briefly before he and Phil leave. They arrive home while he's in the lounge waiting on Phil, still a little awkward in this space without the safety net he's found in the people closer to his age. 

"Going out?" She asks, bright eyes taking him in and clearly curious.

"Yeah," Dan says. He wishes Phil would come down already. "Me and Phil want to see Avatar." 

Her face lights up. "Oh, isn't that lovely! I knew you two would get on so well. Didn't I tell you, Nigel? I said Phil's going to take right to him." 

Dan doesn't actually think that's true - he doesn't think Phil took _right_ to him. But that's alright, because Dan knows he doesn't really make it easy for people in the beginning. Or like... ever. 

Phil does come downstairs then, immediately begging some spending money off his mum. She laughs and hands them both some - though Dan tries to politely refuse it - and tells Phil not to spend all of his on sweets. 

*

Dan's expecting them to go to Manchester. In his mind, that's really all there is - somehow the space between and around where Phil lives just doesn't exist, a blank spot on the map of his mind. 

But it turns out there are things closer than Manchester. Not very impressive ones, but still - the bus stops near enough to the cinema and almost directly in front of the small kebab shop that Phil leads them into. 

"I hope this is alright," he says, glancing nervously at Dan. 

"Yeah," Dan says. "I like a good kebab." 

They order at the counter and then sit down. It's busier than Dan would have expected from the outside, at least two thirds of the tables full.

"I used to come here with my friends back in school," Phil says, sipping his fizzy drink across the table from Dan. 

"So you had a lot of friends?" Dan asks. 

Phil shrugs. "I guess, yeah. I wasn't like, the most popular guy around, but I had friends. What about you?" 

Dan laughs bitterly. "No." 

Phil frowns. "Not at all?" 

"I mean..." Dan shrugs. "I had people I hung out with but it was more to try and fit in and not feel like a social pariah. Also realized I was less likely to get my arse kicked by meatheaded idiots with more testosterone than brain cells if I was with a group of people." 

The frown deepens. "Did you really... get beat up?"

"Yeah." Dan looks at Phil. "I mean, that's what happens when you spend your entire adolescence being mocked for being gay every day of your life." 

"You were out?" There's shock in Phil's voice. 

"Of course not." Dan scoffs. "But apparently I just radiate fucking rainbows and pride flags or something, because it didn't matter that I didn't tell anyone. Somehow they all knew." 

"Dan." Phil sounds so pained that it makes Dan uncomfortable. 

"Anyway," he says, brushing it off. "Enough about my trauma." 

"Want to talk about mine?" Phil asks. 

"Sure." Dan's immediately intrigued. "What's your trauma?" 

"The fact that soon the house is going to be absolutely full of family members that want to know two things and two things only." Phil rattles them off. "Do I have a girlfriend yet, and what am I going to do with my life." 

Dan winces. "No and fuck no?" 

Phil laughs. "Yeah, exactly." 

"What do you even say to that?" Dan asks. "Lie?" 

"I can't lie," Phil says. "I mean, I could, but I'm too bad at keeping my story straight and then I get nervous and the lies just go weird about before I know it I'm telling Great Auntie Hilda that my girlfriend Roberta from Leeds flies hot air balloons and and rescues kittens from the tops of trees and that's why she couldn't make it by to say hello and meet the family." 

"Please... tell me that's not a true story." 

"I wish I could. But, in my defense, I was fourteen." 

"That's not a defense. Fourteen! Oh my god. I was already fully invested in lying to my parents about basically everything I did from the moment I left the house by fourteen. By fourteen I was sneaking out of my bedroom and leaving pillows under the blankets. By fourteen I knew exactly how much cash I could sneak out of my mums wallet without her actually realizing she was missing any money. By fourteen-" 

"Okay, fine!" Phil laughs and covers his face with his hands. "We've established that you were a much cooler and more successfully deceptive fourteen year old than I was." 

Dan grins. "I bet you were cute, though." 

Phil's eyes pop up over his hands. "What?" 

Dan shrugs. "I'm just saying." 

"I was not," Phil says. "I had weird mousy brown hair." 

"I knew that couldn't be your natural color," Dan says. "Not with what everyone else in your family looks like." 

"Look at you, Sherlock Dan." 

"Wouldn't it be Dan Holmes? Or Sherlock Howell?" 

"Dan Holmes is dumb," Phil says. "Sherlock Howell could work though. Does that make me Lester Watson?" 

"Again," Dan says. "It would be James Lester or Phil Watson." 

"James Lester. That just sounds like it could be me, but in another universe." 

"My middle name is James," Dan says, absently.

There's a pause in the conversation as their food gets delivered to them by a bored looking teenager with spots on his face and sleepy eyes. 

"Mine's Michael." Phil says it matter of factly and it takes Dan a moment to remember what they'd been talking about before the interruption. 

"Definitely Phil Watson, then. Or Philip. Philip Watson." 

"Sherlock Howell and Philip Watson?" Phil nods approvingly. "When are they going to give us our television series?" 

"Should be calling any day now," Dan says, and takes a bite to just hide how ridiculous is smile is. 

*

The film is long, but good. 

They're still excitedly talking about it as they walk out of the theater. Dan has to stop to gasp sharply. It's cold, so much colder than when they first walked in. 

"You need a better jacket," Phil says. 

Dan realizes he could actually buy one now. He's been saving the two paychecks he's gotten from Nigel and Kath already. True to their word they're taking out a bit for the room and board, but they're still paying him far more than what he'd ever have expected. 

Part of his brain immediately wants to begin thinking about how it's really just pity and maybe he's fucking things up and just doesn't know it but they feel so sorry for him they're giving him charity anyway. 

But he tells that part to shut the fuck up because he's out on a nice, if cold, night with a cute boy. 

"I do," Dan says, as they walk to the bus stop. "You'll have to show me the best shopping spots." 

Phil grins. "I can do that. We can go one day when you get back?" 

Dan's mood drops slightly at that particular reminder. "Yeah." 

"What's wrong?" Phil asks, picking up on it. 

"I just really don't want to go home." Dan balls his hands into fists, partly for the warmth of skin to skin and partly as an outlet to the sudden nervous energy coursing through his body. Dread is the weirdest kind of adrenaline rush. 

"Is your family that awful?" Phil asks quietly. 

"It's just complicated," Dan says. "Yes and no." 

"Yeah." Phil nods. "I get it." 

"Your family is like, perfect though," Dan says. 

Phil laughs. "They're definitely not." 

"You want to tell me about it?" 

Phil shrugs. Dan can't see it but he can feel it. He hadn't realized they were walking so close. "It's just the whole... being gay thing. I think they'd still love me either way, but you never know what will change about people once they know. Sometimes feeling like someone loves you so much that you live your while life based on never wanting to disappoint them is just a different kind of awful." 

Dan can't actually imagine it, but he does believe Phil. "I guess I'm kind of like that with my Grandma," he says. "But it's not my sexuality, it's just like... everything. Telling her I'm done with uni." 

"Are you really?" Phil asks. "You said that before. But have you decided, for real?" 

"I don't think I can go back," Dan admits. This isn't what he wanted to spend the end of their... outing? talking about. But now that he's started he wants the words out, living in a space that isn't just his head. "I didn't withdraw. I didn't talk to any of my professors. I just stopped going. Things were just... really bad for a while, and I couldn't. So I didn't. Who the fuck even does that? I don't-" 

He stops talking because Phil's reached down between them and he's clutching Dan's hand now through the layer of gloves both of them are wearing. 

"Dan," Phil says, gently. "You're okay." 

Dan feels like something solid and warm has just slammed right into his chest with enough force to almost take his breath away. Something about the way Phil isn't telling him that he's right or wrong, he isn't telling him that the situation doesn't exist. He's just... holding Dan's hand saying it's okay. Saying _he's okay_. 

He won't cry. He's not that much of a mess right now. He won't ruin this whole night like that. But he probably will later. How fucking dare Phil keep filling Dan's days with moments he spends his nights reliving? 

What he does manage now is a brittle, "Thanks," and squeezing Phil's hand just a little bit as they approach the bus stop, before - by some silent mutual agreement - they both let go. 

*

The walk from the bus stop to Phil's house is even colder, but they both go slowly. 

Dan wants to ask if this was a date. It's the question that's burning itself into his brain right now and he just wants so badly to ask it. 

But what if it's not and he's gotten all of this wrong? 

So he doesn't ask. Instead they walk into the house and up the stairs and both go into their separate rooms. 

Dan looks at the laptop. He feels sick all over again. But he also feels emboldened by the whole night, by Phil's hand squeezing his, by everything. 

He picks up the laptop and opens it, then slams it shut again. He punches the bed beside him. He can _fucking do this_. 

He can't do this. 

He picks up the laptop again and walks out of his room and down the hall, knocking lightly on Phil's door. 

"Dan?" Phil isn't wearing a shirt when he answers, and his eyes go wide. Dan will... definitely be revisiting this image. But even that isn't enough to entirely throw him off his mission right now. 

"I need you to look at an email for me," Dan says, shoving the computer at Phil. "It's on there. Just open it." 

"An email?" 

"The university one," Dan says. 

Phil's eyes widen in understanding. "Oh, right. You want me to - yeah. Okay, should we... sit?" 

Dan sits. Phil puts a shirt on. Dan is both happy, and also sad. 

Phil opens the computer. Dan knows it's still pulled up since it's the last thing he looked at. 

He watches Phil's face as Phil read it. A neutral look, and then a frown. Then a bigger frown. His eyes flicker nervously back up to Dan's, then he goes back to reading. 

"Okay," he says, when he finishes. "Okay. It's not... that bad?" 

Dan groans and flops over on Phil's bed. He grabs Phil's pillow and overs his face with it then screams into it. 

Phil tugs it off. "Dan. It's not that bad, really." 

"Just tell me." 

"He says the lecturer in your module reported that you were in danger of not passing. He checked your attendance and saw that it was poor and wants to know if you have extenuating circumstances that would warrant a re-sit. He's giving you a chance, Dan. You could come up with something, if you wanted to do the re-sit." 

"And if I don't?" Dan asks. "What then?" 

Phil shrugs. "Then you don't do the re-sit. You withdraw, properly. I can help you if you want." 

Dan does start to cry then. He tries to pull the pillow back over his face but Phil won't let him, pulling it fully from his grasp. 

"Sorry," Dan says, wiping his eyes. 

Phil looks so sad as he looks at Dan. "Don't be." 

"I'm a wreck." 

"I guess I like wrecks then," Phil says. 

"No one likes wrecks." 

"Race car drivers do," Phil promptly says. "They get paid loads of money to be in them." 

"I think most of the time their goal is actually not to do that." Dan sits up. "But yeah, whatever, I get your point." 

Phil smiles a tiny, cute smile. "Need another hug?" 

"Um." Dan's aware Phil might be joking, but he decides fuck it. "Yeah, actually." 

He's expecting another cautious and slightly awkward encounter like the night before. 

What happens instead is Phil launching himself at Dan, tackling him onto the bed. Dan grunts at the impact of Phil's chest to his chest but Phil's already burying his head against Dan's shoulder, soft black hair tickling Dan's cheek. His knees bracket Dan's hips and his arms wiggle underneath Dan and Dan is helpless to do anything but grab him right back in the best full body squeeze of his life. 

Phil rolls off of him after a minute and lies beside him on the bed. 

"Did you just fucking tackle me?" Dan asks. 

"I did," Phil says. 

"Okay." Dan smiles. "Just checking."


	9. Chapter 9

Nigel doesn't even give Dan any work the next day. His office is locked and there's a note on the door telling Dan to, essentially, just go off and have fun. 

He hovers awkwardly in the quiet house, unsure what to do with himself. He thinks Kath and Nigel are probably out, and the others - maybe they're in, but asleep? 

A traitorous part of his brain images going up to Phil's bedroom and pushing the door open, finding Phil asleep and just... crawling into bed beside him. He doesn't think Phil would mind. In fact, he's fairly sure Phil wouldn't. 

And just the realization of that makes Dan feel strange, heavy and light at the same time, like someone's just handed him something fragile and now it's his protect. He wants to enjoy it but he's always afraid of breaking and ruining the nice things that happen to him. 

He isn't that brave, in the end, so he just goes into the kitchen and decides to make some breakfast. 

*

Phil still isn't downstairs by the time Dan's done cooking. He's staring down at two plates of eggs, two slices of toast, two sausages. 

He's not sure why he made two breakfasts. 

(He is, actually.) 

He's already established that he's not that brave. 

(But he might be a _little_ brave.) 

Even if he says he's just thanking for for being such a good mate the night before... Phil will see through that, won't he? 

His stomach churns, and then growls, because sometimes the universe - or his body - sends conflicting signals. 

He pours two glasses of orange juice and then somehow manages to carry all of the food and both drinks upstairs. The drinks are tucked in close to his body in the crook of his elbows and the plates are in his hand, so when he gets to Phil's door all he can do is tap against it with his foot in an approximation of a knock. 

The door isn't latched all the way so he swings right open. Dan winces when it clatters into something behind him. 

Phil bolts upright in bed, immediately alarmed by the noise. "Wh- Dan?" 

His voice is croaky from disuse. It's disarmingly hot, and Dan's already pretty fucking disarmed. In fact, he sort of just wants the world to swallow him right up. 

Then Phil's face lights up. 

"Is that food?" 

"Yeah," Dan says, stepping into the room. "I made breakfast." 

"Wow." Phil's voice go warm and soft just like his smile. "No one's ever made me breakfast in bed before."

All Dan's regrets disappear. 

*

Phil says his mum doesn't allow him to eat in his room so if she scolds him he'll be blaming Dan entirely. Dan argues but Phil says it's the perfect plan because his mum won't yell at Dan like she's one of her kids. 

"I dunno," Dan says. "She gave me a tenner and told me to buy sweets for the cinema last night. She may be actually wanting to adopt me." 

Phil shoots him a horrified look. "I fucking hope not." 

Dan smirks and lifts an eyebrow. "Oh? Why's that?" 

Phil turns red and looks back at his plate. "Shut up." 

"What?" Dan prods. "Why? Explain it to me." 

"Actually shut up!" Phil laughs. "I hate you." 

"You can't hate me," Dan says. "I made you breakfast." 

"I can multitask." Phil tries to bring his fork to his mouth while he talks and looks at Dan, but his whole bite of egg falls off onto his lap. 

"Yeah but... can you?" Dan asks, then falls to the side as Phil starts to aggressively poke at him. 

*

Martyn and Cornelia are standing in the kitchen kissing when they bring their plates downstairs. 

Phil clears his throat obnoxiously, only for Martyn to raise a middle finger to them without looking. 

"Rude," Phil whines. "How'd you know I wasn't mum or dad?"

"Mum never enters a room without you being able to hear her first, and Dad's footsteps sound heavier," Martyn says. 

Phil considers that and then just huffs a displeased sound. 

"What are you doing today, pipsqueak?" Martyn says, turning halfway but still keeping Cornelia in his arms. She looks perfectly content and perfectly unashamed about being caught, resting her head against Martyn's chest and looping both arms around his waist. 

"Dunno," Phil says. "Just hanging out." 

He glances ever so slightly at Dan, like he wants to say more but doesn't. 

Dan doesn't know if Martyn catches it or not. 

"We're going out soon," Martyn says. "Meeting up with some more of my mates. Corny's gonna wow them with her vocal prowess." 

"Oh, shut it," Cornelia says, slapping lightly on his chest. 

"She was on telly, you know." Martyn is emoting as much as Dan's ever seen him do, and it's all pride. 

"It was just a singing show." 

"Just." Martyn scoffs. 

"That's really cool," Phil says. "I was on the telly too! And in a movie." 

Dan moves to start washing their plates off while Phil talks. He's not jealous and he doesn't feel left out. He actually likes learning more about Phil this way, too. He listens while they all talk about Weakest Link and Swedish Idol and by the time the plates are clean Martyn and Cornelia are saying goodbye. 

"Sorry about that," Phil. 

"Why are you apologizing?" Dan asks. He wipes his hands dry on a dish towel. 

Phil shrugs. "Did you want to hang out today?" 

"Yeah," Dan says. "That'd be nice. I have to leave tomorrow." 

Phil frowns. "I don't like that." 

"What?" Dan asks. "Want me to stay forever?" 

"Just... you don't sound like you'll have a nice time on Christmas," Phil says. He walks over to the counter and leans against it, side by side with Dan. They're not looking at each other anymore and maybe that makes Phil braver. "No one should be sad on Christmas." 

"Well," Dan says. "You'll just have to ring me and cheer me up." 

He can see Phil's smile without needing to look. "Have to give me your number for that." 

"Okay," Dan says. 

*

Kath and Nigel come home in the afternoon, two hours into Dan and Phil's Bubble Bobble race to level one hundred. She corrals them into helping with her cooking and Phil complains plenty but they both spend hours doing whatever chopping and peeling and stirring she needs. 

"I do wish you could stay at least long enough to have lunch with us tomorrow, Dan," she says. "I'm sure I'll have something ready I can send with you on the train. Just don't tell your own mum that you've already had my cooking and it's better."

Phil laughs. "How do you know Dan's mum can't cook, too?" 

Kath waves a hadn dismissively. "I've got confidence in my skill, love. Nothing wrong with that." 

"My mum can't cook that well," Dan confirms. He's trying to ignore the way his stomach goes tight. He's had a nice afternoon so far of ignoring that by this time tomorrow he'll be back in Wokingham. "My grandma can, but if yours is better I won't tell her." 

Kath pats him on the cheek. He's sure it leaves a flour handprint behind, but he doesn't mind. "Good boy." 

*

They're banished by dinner time, told where the bread and sliced meats are and left to fend for themselves. "Let's eat in my room again," Phil says. 

"If she catches you, you can't blame this one on me," Dan warns. "It's your idea." 

"Fine, fine." 

Half an hour later they're eating crisps and turkey sandwiches on Phil's bed. 

"I can't believe we never changed out of pajamas today," Dan says. His are less actual pajamas are more joggers and a t-shirt, but Phil's are full on purple fleece monstrosities. 

"Pajama days are the best," Phil says. "When you get back we should have another one. When are you coming back, actually?" 

"Day after Christmas," Dan says. "I don't want to stay that long." 

"Oh, you'll be here by New Year's!" Phil brightens. "You can come to Ian's party with me." 

"Ian?"

"Yeah, my best friend," Phil says easily. "He's great." 

Dan hates how instantly jealous he is. It's really not fair how his brain goes from zero to fucked up in an instant. "I'd just bring a party down for you," Dan says. 

Phil frowns. "Do you not want to go?" 

"No, it's not that," Dan says. "I'm just... you know. Me." 

"Yeah," Phil says. "Exactly. You're you. And I think you're ace." 

"Ace." Dan gently mocks to distract from how Phil is managing to turn his mood right back around. He's got a gift for that. 

"Yeah," Phil says. "You'll come?" 

Dan doesn't have strength in him to fighting it so he shrugs and says, "Sure." 

*

Kath still won't allow them to get underfoot while she's doing all of her real cooking so they stay upstairs and watch a movie on Phil's laptop. They bicker for a while over what to watch before they settle on The Dark Knight. 

The screen is small and they sit close with it propped up on their legs, Phil's left and Dan's right. That's the only reason they sit close together. And sitting close together is definitely why Phil's arm goes numb. And his arm going numb is definitely the only reason why he stretches it above his head and makes a show of rubbing his forearm and wrist, before dropping it right over Dan's shoulders. 

"You idiot," Dan says fondly. 

"Shh," Phil says. "I'm trying to do my best work here." 

Dan shuffles a little and gets comfortable in the new position, his body sinking a little lower on the mountain of pillows they're sat against. "You have no game. Zero game. Negative game." 

"It's working though, isn't it?" Phil squeezes Dan's upper arm just a little. 

"Yeah," Dan says, and tilts his head to rest his head on Phil's shoulder. "I think it is." 

*

Phil falls asleep. 

Dan can feel when it happens. Phil's whole body relaxes and his hand goes slack against Dan but his breathing goes steady and even and Dan stays there longer than he probably should just enjoying the warmth and how he can smell Phil's aftershave. 

It feels surreal. It's not like anything has even happened but Dan feels wrapped in the intimacy of the moment. He's never had it like this, not really. He's had nervous drunk kisses stepped in inexperience, too wet and titillating more for the fact of it happening than who it happened with. He's had hookups where he wanted experience and he wanted to slake the itching and thirst under his skin, to just fucking feel something with someone else. But in both of those situations, pleasing as they were to him at the time, he felt like an object someone else was using as the means to an end - and maybe he felt like the person he was with was an object to him, too. 

He's not even sure he understood the difference until now. His life has changed so much in the past month - where he lives, what he does, his sense of security and stability, the very baseline of hope that he needed so desperately to keep going. And... this. Phil. A different kind of hope, differently but maybe equally needed. 

It's terrifying as fuck. But a lot of things in his life are scary and Phil is the best kind of scary, like walking into a theme park and pointing to the tallest roller coaster. It's the kind of scary he's choosing, the kind of adrenaline rush that he wants to openly and completely invite into his life. 

He turns and snuggles up a little more to Phil, staying there until the credits roll. 

*

Kath volunteers to drop Dan off at the train station. She says she needs to do a bit more shopping anyway. Dan thinks it's a lie but he also thinks maybe she just wanted out of the house for a bit after almost twenty four hours in the kitchen. 

"I'll go too," Phil says, but Kath shakes her head. 

"No," she says. "Your auntie and your cousins will be over soon, and someone's got to be here to let them in." 

Martyn and Cornelia went out to do more last minute shopping and Nigel's at the holiday brunch for a men's club he's in. Dan isn't sure he's ever seen adults with so much of a bustling social life as the Lesters have. 

"Mum." Phil whines, but it doesn't do much good. 

A few minutes later Dan breaks away to go pack his bag. He doesn't realize that Phil's followed him up until he turns and catches a glimpse of a tall, lanky figure in the door.

"Jesus fucking Christ mother tits-" Dan yelps. 

Phil snorts. "Jesus Christ mother tits? Your brain is so weird." 

"Takes one to know one," Dan says. 

"Wow," Phil says, hand over his heart. "That burn." 

"Shut up." Dan zips his bag up. He's not taking much. He's sure he still has clothes at his parents house anyway if he really does need more than one extra outfit. "Did you come up here just to lurk and stare at me?" 

"Maybe," Phil says. "I like staring at you." 

His voice goes shy in that endearing way. 

"Well." Dan lets his hand rest on his bag. "No accounting for taste?" 

"You shut up." Phil steps in. "I wanted to say goodbye, too. Just like... privately." 

"Privately?" Dan's very proud that his voice doesn't squeak or break or do something else embarrassing. 

Phil scratches the back of his head. "Yeah." 

"Well." Dan holds his hands up and shrugs. "Here I am." 

Phil takes another step forward and then holds both arms out. Dan steps into them and maybe it's not what Dan had imagined for that first fraction of a second but being wrapped up in a tight warm hug is actually just as nice, he decides. 

And it is a tight hug. It's tight and long and Phil basically buries his face in Dan's neck and he doesn't seem to want to let go ever. 

Dan doesn't either, actually. 

So he doesn't. They stand there for at least three minutes, until Kath shouts for him up the stairs. 

Phil sighs. "I really am gonna ring you." 

"You really better," Dan says. 

Phil nuzzles a bit and Dan swears there might even be the tiniest bit of a kiss there but then Phil's backing away before he can decide if it was his imagination or not. 

They stare at each other now, until Kath shouts again. 

"See you after Christmas?" Dan finally asks, like he just needs to check and make sure Phil won't disappear before then. 

Phil smiles a smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. "See you when you get back home."

**Author's Note:**

> extra special wip for an extra special sarah <3 


End file.
